#alaska

Imagining the future is a kind of nostalgia. ↗

— John Green

#imagination

The following obituary appeared in the Pittsburgh Sun-Telegraph of Sept. 16, 1958: A GREAT POET died last week in Lancieux, France, at the age of 84. He was not a poet's poet. Fancy-Dan dilletantes will dispute the description "great." He was a people's poet. To the people he was great. They understood him, and knew that any verse carrying the by-line of Robert W. Service would be a lilting thing, clear, clean and power-packed, beating out a story with a dramatic intensity that made the nerves tingle. And he was no poor, garret-type poet, either. His stuff made money hand over fist. One piece alone, The Shooting of Dan McGrew, rolled up half a million dollars for him. He lived it up well and also gave a great deal to help others. "The only society I like," he once said, "is that which is rough and tough - and the tougher the better. That's where you get down to bedrock and meet human people." He found that kind of society in the Yukon gold rush, and he immortalized it. ↗

— Robert W. Service

#age

This was one of the places people told me to go, it was one the big trips that you should see: Alaska. ↗

— Jeff Goldblum

#big #go #me #people #places

Pudge," she said, faux-condescending, "the sound is an integral part of the artistic experience of this video game. Muting Decapitation would be like reading only every other word of Jane Eyre. ↗

— John Green

#artistic #game-sound #experience

One of Alaska's strengths is our pioneer role in environmentally sensitive development. ↗

— Frank Murkowski

#development #environmentally #our #pioneer #role

I finally found something that can stop the fox. The fox cannot summit Strawberry Hill.” - Takumi ↗

— John Green

#looking-for-alaska #strawberry-hill #takumi #humor

That didn’t happen, of course. Things never happened the way I imagined them. ↗

— John Green

#looking-for-alaska #imagination

At some point, you just pull off the Band-Aid, and it hurts, but then it's over and you're relieved. ↗

— John Green

#hurt

Alaska finished her cigarette and flicked it into the river. 'Why do you smoke so damn fast?' I asked. She looked at me and smiled widely, and such a wide smile on her narrow face might have looked goofy were it not for the unimpeachably elegant green in her eyes. She smiled with all the delight of a kid on Christmas morning and said, 'Y'all smoke to enjoy it. I smoke to die. ↗

— John Green

#looking-for-alaska #christmas

Her underwear, her jeans, the comforter, my corduroys and my boxers between us, I thought. Five layers, and yet I felt it, the nervous warmth of touching – a pale reflection of the fireworks of one mouth on another, but a reflection nonetheless. And in the almostness of the moment, I cared at least enough. I wasn’t sure whether I liked her, and doubted whether I could trust her, but I cared at least enough to try to find out. Her on my bed, wide green eyes staring down at me. The enduring mystery of her sly, almost smirking, smile. Five layers between us. ↗

— John Green

#green #john #kissing #sex #sexual