One of my favourite parts of The Fault In Our Stars.
I couldn't be mad at him for even a moment, and only now that I loved a grenade did I understand the foolishness of trying to save others from my own impending fragmentation: I couldn't unloved Augustus Waters. And I didn't want to.
"It's not fair," I said. "It's just so goddamned unfair."
"The world," he said, "is not a wish-granting factory," and then he broke down, just for one moment, his rob roaring impotent like a clap of thunder unaccompanied by lightning, the terrible ferocity that amateur in the field of suffering might mistake for weakness. Then he pulled me to him and, his face inches from mine, resolved, "I'll fight it. I'll fight it for you. Don't you worry about me, Hazel Grace. I'm okay. I'll find a way to hang around and annoy you for a long time."
I just cannot get over their story.