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John Green Quotes about Memories

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If people could see me the way I see myself - if they could live in my memories - would anyone love me?

If people could see me the way I see myself - if they could live in my memories - would anyone love me?

Memories, I Hate You, People

John Green (2012). “An Abundance of Katherines”, p.141, Penguin UK

Do you ever wonder whether people would like you more or less if they could see inside you? But I always wonder about that. If people could see me the way I see myself—if they could live in my memories—would anyone, anyone, love me?

Life, Memories, People

I kept it for myself like a keepsake, as if sharing the memory might lead to its dissipation.

Memories, Might, Keepsakes

John Green (2008). “Looking for Alaska”, p.116, Penguin

memories fall apart too.

Memories, Fall, Falling Apart

John Green (2015). “Looking For Alaska Special 10th Anniversary Edition”, p.149, Penguin

What I love about the sculpture is that it makes the bones that we are always walking and playing on manifest, like in a world that so often denies the reality of death and the reality that we are surrounded by and outnumbered by the dead. Here, is a very playful way of acknowledging that and acknowledging that and that always, whenever we play, whenever we live, we are living in both literal and metaphorical ways on the memory and bones of the dead.

Memories, Reality, Play

The pleasure of remembering had been taken from me, because there was no longer anyone to remember with. It felt like losing your co-rememberer meant losing the memory itself, as if the things we'd done were less real and important than they had been hours before.

Memories, Real, Taken

John Green (2012). “The Fault in Our Stars”, p.262, Penguin

The town was paper, but the memories were not.

Memories, Hipster, Towns

John Green (2010). “Paper Towns”, p.156, Bloomsbury Publishing

Nostalgia is inevitably a yearning for a past that never existed and when I'm writing, there are no bees to sting me out of my sentimentality. For me at least, fiction is the only way I can even begin to twist my lying memories into something true.

Memories, Lying, Writing

My head was level with hers as we stared at each other from opposite sides of the glass. I don't remember how it ended - if I went to bed or she did. In my memory, it doesn't end. We just stay there, looking at each other, forever.

Memories, Glasses, Opposites

John Green (2013). “Paper Towns”, p.8, A&C Black

Someday no one will remember that she ever existed, I wrote in my notebook, and then, or that I did. Because memories fall apart, too. And then you're left with nothing, left not even with a ghost but with its shadow. In the beginning, she had haunted me, haunted my dreams, but even now, just weeks later, she was slipping away, falling apart in my memory and everyone else's, dying again.

Notebook, Dream, Memories

John Green (2015). “Looking For Alaska Special 10th Anniversary Edition”, p.149, Penguin

The dead are visible only in the terrible lidless eye of memory.

Memories, Eye, Terrible

John Green (2012). “The Fault in Our Stars”, p.113, Penguin

You'll live forever in our hearts, big man. That particularly galled me, because it implied the immortality of those left behind: You will live forever in my memory, because I will live forever! I AM YOUR GOD NOW, DEAD BOY! I OWN YOU!

Memories, Real, Heart

John Green (2012). “The Fault in Our Stars”, p.171, Penguin UK

I wondered if there would ever be a day when I didn't think about Alaska, wondered whether I should hope for a time when she would be a distant memory - recalled only on the anniversary of her death, or maybe a couple of weeks after, remembering only after having forgotten.

Couple, Memories, Thinking

John Green (2015). “Looking For Alaska Special 10th Anniversary Edition”, p.129, Penguin

I knew that I would know more dead people. The bodies pile up. Could there be a space in my memory for each of them, or would I forget a little of Alaska every day for the rest of my life?

Memories, Alaska, Space

John Green (2008). “Looking for Alaska”, p.127, Penguin

One swing set, well worn but structurally sound, seeks new home. Make memories with your kid or kids so that someday he or she or they will look into the backyard and feel the ache of sentimentality as desperately as I did this afternoon. It's all fragile and fleeting, dear reader, but with this swing set, your child(ren) will be introduced to the ups and downs of human life gently and safely, and may also learn the most important lesson of all: No matter how hard you kick, no matter how high you get, you can't go all the way around.

Truth, Memories, Children

The dead are visible only in the terrible lidless eye of memory. The living, thank heaven, retain the ability to surprise and to disappoint. - Van Houten

Memories, Eye, Heaven

John Green (2012). “The Fault in Our Stars”, p.113, Penguin

And on the last day, the bad days become so difficult to recall, because one way or another, she had made a life here, just as I had. The town was paper, but the memories were not. All the things I’d done here, all the love and pity and compassion and violence and spite, kept welling up inside me.

Memories, Bad Day, Compassion

John Green (2010). “Paper Towns”, p.156, Bloomsbury Publishing

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