Archive for June, 2012

The Colors of Love

Posted in Photography with tags , , , on June 25, 2012 by rejectwithpotential

by Nicole L. Hill


These pictures make me want to erupt into never ending dreams of summer and heat. Love the colours. It’s such a nice improvement from the awful, gray weather I’m forced to look at outside my window.



















The fault in our stars

Posted in Books with tags , , on June 17, 2012 by rejectwithpotential




It has always been my intent for this blog that I would write about the things I feel most passionate about. And other then fashion which obviously has been a vast issue so far, my intention was to blog about books. Being a proficient reader that always has a book under her arm; I repeatedly feel the need to talk about books after I am finished reading them and while talking with friends and posting at goodreads is fine, I often find myself with the need to elaborate. My plan is to pick out a book from the pile that I have read once a month. It will probably be a favourite or perhaps just the book I found most interesting and then I will discuss it, recommend it or maybe even just shamelessly quote it. This is something I am trying out for now, who knows…If I like doing it I might begin doing post like this more frequently.

I could probably quote the entire, The fault in our stars but that would take the pleasure out of reading it. Instead I have picked some quotes that are not too spoilerish. Of course I have others that I would have favoured instead, but these should be safe or at least not too destroying for people who haven’t read it.

Okay, so about the book. I’m not completely sure how I heard of this or even why I decided to read it but I’m so very, very, very glad that I did. It’s hard for me to explain precisely what feelings I have about this book, so to make things easier I’m going to start off by quoting Hazel Grace:

“Sometimes, you read a book and it fills you with this weird evangelical zeal, and you become convinced that the shattered world will never be put back together unless and until all living humans read the book. And then there are books like An Imperial Affliction, which you can’t tell people about, books so special and rare and yours that advertising your affection feels like betrayal”

This is exactly what I feel when I have read a great book. Sometimes I just want to share it with everybody. Friends, colleagues and sometimes people I have just met, it’s infrequent but it has happened. Then there are those rare occasions when you find a book that unexpectedly makes you feel something so special and personal that you can’t imagine sharing it with anybody because you just know, that it wouldn’t mean the same to them and it would literally crush you if it turned out that they hated the book. This is more of the later but kind of in the middle of both categories. Clearly I am sharing the book by writing about it and I would probably recommend it to a couple of selected friends but it’s a special book an under no circumstance is it expected for two people to feel the same while reading it. When something is as emotional as this, it’s not possible.





I know this book has been criticized a lot and as it is with a lot of books, people tend to either love or hate them. Dealing with a topic as heavy as grief it is bound to encircle some emotions that are not entirely welcome or well liked with all people. I have never had to experience the tragedy of having someone I loved suffer from a long-time disease and while this might make me ignorant on some parts and I know it does, I am not a stranger to grief itself. Having read, that a lot of people who actually has personal experiences, took great offends when they read this book, saying it didn’t reflect or come across as something that was even remotely realistic to the truth. And while I can’t agree or disagree on that, I have to say that pain is individual. It makes people react in different ways and it doesn’t always make sense.



I have to agree with Peter Van Houten on that one. We might not like it but it’s true. Grief makes us see sides of ourselves we didn’t know existed. Of course they sometime make brief random appearance but when they do finally manifest themselves it often comes as a shock. This book explores a lot of these aspects which is why at times it becomes emotionally draining to read but written the way it is, with its straight honesty and brutally funny wit, always made me want to read more.


“Patience, grasshopper,” I counseled. “You don’t want to seem overeager”

“Right, that’s why I said tomorrow,” he said. “I want to see you again tonight. But I’m willing to wait all night and much of tomorrow.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m serious,” he said.

“You don’t even know me,” I said. I grabbed the book from the center console. “How about I call you when I finish this?”

“But you don’t even have my phone number,” he said.

“I strongly suspect you wrote it in this book.”

He broke out into that goofy smile. “And you say we don’t know each other.”


Its lines like this that makes me remember how much this book made me smile, laugh and it makes me want to read it all over again. For me this book holds a record. It’s the first book I have ever read that not only captured my interest from the beginning, but also were I knew I was in love with it before I reached page 10. Sure I have read books that intrigued me from the opening line, but usually it wears off once the story starts to evolve and then it might pick up later or sometimes it wont, but this is actually the first time were it lasted until the end.





“It’s just that most really good-looking people are stupid, so I exceed expectations.’
‘Right, it’s primarily his hotness,’ I said.
‘It can be sort of blinding,’ he said.
‘It actually did blind our friend Isaac,’ I said.
‘Terrible tragedy, that. But can I help my own deadly beauty?’
‘You cannot.’
‘It is my burden, this beautiful face.’
‘Not to mention your body.’
‘Seriously, don’t even get me started on my hot bod. You don’t want to see me naked, Dave. Seeing me naked actually took Hazel Grace’s breath away,’ he said, nodding toward the oxygen tank.”


This pretty much does a great job of summering up what kind of humour this book contains.

These are ordinary kids. Sure. Kids who are sick, kids who are depressed. But also kids that realize that they have to continue with their life and despite being treated as a living tragedy, they are still alive. John Green really does a brilliant job portraying all of this. As much as this book is depressing it’s hilarious. For every time it made me cry it made me laugh.

That’s a rare combination.





It’s the simplicity of this book that grants an ‘okay’ the power to be just as beautiful if not more so, than an ‘always’.





This is one of my favourite quotes. There are so many great ones that its impossible to choose, but I really like this one. It represents the struggle to maintain hope although nothing gives you reason to.




This probably only makes sense coming out of Augustus Waters’s mouth, I can’t imagine anyone else getting away with it, but its genius even though it might not be rational.





Oh Augustus, I hear you. I know that feeling to the point of exhaustion. My thoughts are all over the place. Even when it feels like it’s just a brick on the road to ingenuity and I know what I want and what I want to say, I still have difficulties assembling my thoughts into whatever I am feeling and what I envisage them to be. Hence how long it took me to pull this post together.

I got to say, finishing this book really devastated me. Not so much because of the ending, but more so because of the major rollercoaster ride you experience while reading it. Getting to care as much as you do when you become attached to these characters, you will get hurt. I found myself crying days after it was over and still even now I can get sad or upset just thinking about it. That doesn’t change the fact that this is a beautiful book and that in spite of everything, it was worth all of the heartache it came along with.