“The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, / But in ourselves, that we are underlings.”
I can’t write much about this book. You’ll have to read it yourself. It is one of those books you can’t put down until you finished it, even though you don’t really want it to end. Thanks John Green. You had me at uhmm the book title – inspired by Shakespeare. I have always been a sucker for intertextuality.
The story is as hopeful as it is tragic. It is a story about cancer but also a story about so much more. Love. Time. Infinity. There is no … and they lived happily ever after, which wasn’t to expect in the first place. Still I didn’t expect that kind of ending.
“There are infinite numbers between 0 and 1. There’s .1 and .12 and .112 and an infinite collection of others. Of course, there is a bigger infinite set of numbers between 0 and 2, or between 0 and a million. Some infinities are bigger than other infinities. A writer we used to like taught us that. There are days, many of them, when I resent the size of my unbounded set. I want more numbers than I’m likely to get, and God, I want more numbers for Augustus Waters than he got. But, Gus, my love, I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. You gave me a forever within the numbered days, and I’m grateful.”