在gus的提前葬礼上，hazel给他写的悼词：
“my name ** hazel.augustus waters was the great star-crossed love of my life.ours was an epic love story,and i won’t be able to get than a sentence into it without d**appearing into a puddle of tears.gus knew.gus knows.i will not tell you our love story,because—like all real love stories—it will die with us,as it should.i’d hoped that he’d be eulogizing me,because there’s no one i’d rather h**e.”i started crying.“okay,how not to cry.how am i—okay.okay.”
i took a few breaths and went back to the page.“i can’t talk about our love story,so i will talk about math.i am not a mathematician,but i know th**:there are infinite numbers between 0 and 1.there’s.1 and.12 and.112 and an infinite collection of others.of course,there ** 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 numbers than i’m likely to get,and god,i want 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 g**e me a forever within the numbered days,and i’m grateful.”
和最后gus留给hzael的信：
van houten,
i’m a good person but a **ty writer.you’re a **ty person but a good writer.we’d make a good team.i don’t want to ask you any f**ors,but if you h**e time—and from what i saw,you h**e plenty—i was wondering if you could write a eulogy for hazel.i’ve got notes and everything,but if you could just make it into a coherent whole or whatever?or even just tell me what i should say differently.
here’s the thing about hazel:almost everyone ** obsessed with le**ing a mark upon the world.bequeathing a legacy.outlasting death.we all want to be remembered.i do,too.that’s what bothers me most,** being another unremembered casualty in the ancient and inglorious war against d**ease.
i want to le**e a mark.
but van houten:the marks humans le**e are too often scars.you build a hideous minimall or start a coup or try to become a rock star and you think,“they’ll remember me now,”but(a)they don’t remember you,and(b)all you le**e behind are scars.your coup becomes a dictatorship.your minimall becomes a lesion.
(okay,maybe i’m not such a **ty writer.but i can’t pull my ideas together,van houten.my thoughts are stars i can’t fathom into constellations.)
we are like a bunch of dogs squirting on fire hydrants.we po**on the groundwater with our toxic p**s,ma**ng everything mine in a ridiculous attempt to survive our deaths.i can’t stop p**sing on fire hydrants.i know it’s silly and useless—epically useless in my current state—but i am an animal like any other.
hazel ** different.she walks lightly,old man.she walks lightly upon the earth.hazel knows the truth:we’re as likely to hurt the universe as we are to help it,and we’re not likely to do either.
people will say it’s sad that she le**es a lesser scar,that fewer remember her,that she was loved deeply but not widely.but it’s not sad,van houten.it’s triumphant.it’s heroic.**n’t that the real hero**m?like the doctors say:first,do no harm.
the real heroes anyway aren’t the people doing things;the real heroes are the people noticing things,paying attention.the guy who invented the smallpox vaccine didn’t actually invent anything.he just noticed that people with cowpox didn’t get smallpox.
after my pet scan lit up,i snuck into the icu and saw her while she was unconscious.i just walked in behind a nurse with a badge and i got to sit next to her for like ten minutes before i got caught.i really thought she was going to die before i could tell her that i was going to die,too.it was brutal:the incessant mechanized haranguing of intensive care.she had th** dark cancer water dripping out of her chest.eyes closed.intubated.but her hand was still her hand,still warm and the nails painted th** almost black dark blue and i just held her hand and tried to imagine the world without us and for about one second i
was a good enough person to hope she died so she would never know that i was going,too.but then i wanted time so we could fall in love.i got my w**h,i suppose.i left my scar.
a nurse guy came in and told me i had to le**e,that v**itors weren’t allowed,and i asked if she was doing okay,and the guy said,“she’s still taking on water.”a desert blessing,an ocean curse.
what else?she ** so beautiful.you don’t get tired of looking at her.you never worry if she ** smarter than you:you know she **.she ** funny without ever being mean.i love her.i am so lucky to love her,van houten.you don’t get to choose if you get hurt in th** world,old man,but you do h**e some say in who hurts you.i like my choices.i hope she likes hers.
i do,augustus.
i do.
这两段我认为是本书最感人的部分
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