[as Hazel reads Gus’s book in bed Frannie notices the book]
Frannie: That’s different. Did he give it to you?
Hazel: By “it” do you mean herpes?
Frannie: Wow. Yes, I did. It’s a mothers dream.
[referring to Isaac breaking up with Monica]
Hazel: Oh, Isaac. I’m so sorry. Do you want to talk about it?
[Isaac starts sobbing]
Isaac: No, I just want to cry and play video games.
Gus: However, you know, it doesn’t hurt to talk to him if you have any sage words of feminine advice.
Hazel: I actually think his response is fairly appropriate.
Gus: “Pain demands to be felt.”
Hazel: You’re quoting my book!
Isaac: She said she wanted to break up with me before the surgery, because she couldn’t handle it. I’m about to lose my eyesight and she can’t handle it. I kept saying “always” to her, you know, like always. And she kept like talking over me, and not saying it back, and like, it was like, I was gone already, you know? And…
Hazel: You know, sometimes people don’t understand the promises that their making when they make them.
Isaac: I know, but I just feel like such a loser. I still have her necklace on.
Hazel: Take it off.
Isaac: Dude, take that off!
Gus: “An Imperial Affliction.”
Hazel: Yes. I’m so glad that you liked it.
Gus: Yes, I did. But the ending.
Hazel: I know, it is rather abrupt.
Gus: Rather abrupt? Are you kidding? It’s evil! I mean, I understand that she dies, but there’s, there’s an unwritten contract between author and…
[Isaac interrupts him to get persmission to break another one of Gus’s trophies]
Gus: …between author and reader. And I feel like ending your book in the middle of a sentence sort of violates that contract, don’t you think?
Hazel: Okay. Yes, I know what you mean, but to be completely honest, I think that it’s just so truthful. You know? You just die in the middle of life. You die in the middle of a sentence. And, I don’t know. But I really would like what happens to the rest of it, you know, everyone after Anna dies.
Gus: That’s the thing about pain, it demands to be felt.
[Gus starts reading out loud]
Gus: “Dear Mr. Waters, I am writing to thank you for your electronic correspondence. I am grateful to anyone who sets aside the time to read my book.”
[suddenly Hazel sits up]
Hazel: What are you doing?
Gus: I may have found Van Houten’s assistant, emailed her.
Gus: She may have forwarded that email onto Van Houten. Shall I continue?
Hazel: Oh, my God! Yeah, yeah! Go!
[Gus continues to read Van Houten’s email]
Gus: “I am particularly indebted to you, sir.” Hazel Grace, he just called me “sir.”
Hazel: Augustus, keep reading! Keep reading!
Gus: “Both for your kind words about “An Imperial Affliction” and for taking the time to tell me that the book, and here I quote you directly, meant a great deal to you and Hazel Grace.”
[Hazel does an excited scream]
Hazel: You did not! You did not! You did not!
Gus: Of course I did.
[carries on reading Van Houten’s email]
Gus: “To answer your question. No, I have not written anything else, nor will I. I do not feel continuing to share my thoughts with readers would benefit either them or me. However thank you for your generous email. Yours most sincerely, Peter Van Houten.” So, yeah, that just happened.
Hazel: Oh, my God!
Gus: I’ve been trying to tell you, I’m kind of awesome.
[Hazel email to Van Houten]
Hazel: “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind answering a few questions I have about what happens after the end of the book. Specifically, the following. Does Anna’s mom marry the Dutch Tulip Man, and is the Dutch Tulip Man up to something or is he just completely misunderstood? Lastly, I was hoping you could shed some light on Sisyphus the Hamster. These questions have haunted me for years. And I don’t know how long I have left to get answers to them. I know these are not important literary questions, and that your book is full of important literary questions, but I would just really like to know.”
[we see Hazel reading her email over to phone to Gus]
Hazel: “And of course, if ever you do decide to write anything else, I would love to read it. Frankly, I’d read your grocery lists. Yours with great admiration, Hazel Grace Lancaster.”
[after Hazel finishes reading her email to Van Houten]
Gus: Not bad.
Hazel: You think.
Gus: Yeah, I mean, it’s a bit pretentious. But then again, Van Houten uses words like “tendentious” and “bacchanalia”, so I think he’ll like it.
Hazel: I should probably go to sleep.
[neither of them hangs up the phone]
Gus: Perhaps “okay” will be our “always”.
[Hazel hesitates a moment before replying]
[as Hazel recieves an email reply from Van Houten]
Hazel: “Dear Ms. Lancaster, I cannot answer your questions, at least not in writing, because to do so would constitute a sequel, which you might publish, or otherwise share on the internet. Not that I don’t trust you, but how could I trust you, I barely know you. Should ever you find yourself in Amsterdam, do pay a visit at your leisure.”
[referring to to Hazel going to Amsterdam to meet Van Houten]
Gus: Why don’t you ask the Genies? Use your wish.
Hazel: I already used it. Pre-miracle.
Gus: What did you use it on?
Gus: Not Disney.
Gus: Hazel Grace, you did not go to Disney World.
Hazel: I was thirteen!
Gus: You did not use your last dying wish to go to Disney World!
Hazel: And Epcot Center.
Gus: Oh, my God!
Hazel: It was actually a really fun trip.
Gus: That is the saddest thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life.
Hazel: No, I met Goofy.
Gus: Now I’m just embarrassed.
Hazel: Why are you embarrassed?
Gus: I can’t believe I have a crush on a girl with such clichéd wishes. Terrible.
[Gus and Hazel walk together in the park for their picnic]
Hazel: Is this where you bring all your romantic conquests?
Gus: Yeah, every last one of them. That’s probably why I’m still a virgin.
Hazel: You are not still a virgin!
Gus: Let me show you something.
[he picks up a stick and draws a circle in the dirt on the ground]
Gus: See this circle? That is a circle of virgins.
Gus: And this…
[he draws a much smaller circle inside that circle]
Gus: …is eighteen year-old dudes with one leg.
Gus: So, yeah.
[as they’re having they’re picnic]
Gus: How cool is this? They’re using a skeleton as a playground. Think about that.
Hazel: You do love your symbols.
Gus: Speaking of which, you’re probably wondering why you’re sitting here eating a bad cheese sandwich, and drinking orange juice with a guy in a Rik Smits jersey.
Hazel: It actually has crossed my mind.
Gus: Well, Hazel Grace, like so many before you, and listen, I say this with the utmost affection, you used your wish moronically.
Hazel: Okay, we’ve been through this. I was thirteen…
Gus: Alright! Hush! I am in the midst of a grand soliloquy here.
Gus: You were young. Impressionable. The Grim Reaper staring you in right the face and it lead you to rush into making a wish you didn’t really want. But how could little Hazel Grace, having never read “An Imperial Affliction” know that her one true wish was to visit Mr. Peter Van Houten in his Amsterdamian exile.
Hazel: But I didn’t save it, so…
Gus: It’s a good thing I saved mine.
Hazel: So you’re saying…
Gus: I’m not going to give you my wish or anything, Hazel. If that’s what you’re thinking. However, you know, I too have an interest in meeting this Mr. Peter Van Houten, and I really didn’t think it would make much sense to meet him without the girl who introduced me to the book in the first place, now would it? So I talked with the Genies and they’re all for it. We leave in a month.
Frannie: And he’s giving you his wish!
Hazel: Well, we’re sharing the wish. I mean, he, he… Yeah, we’re sharing it.
Frannie: That’s sweet. Unless…
Frannie: Is he your boyfriend? Is that…?
Hazel: Stop it. Do not. He is not my boy… Mom, focus. We’re talking about Amsterdam.
Frannie: But you like him so much.
[after Hazel’s relapse, Hazel avoids Gus’s calls]
Hazel: I know what you’re thinking. It’s not fair to him. It’s not. He doesn’t need this in his life. I mean, nobody does. I’m a lot more trouble than it’s worth.
Michael: No, you’re right. You’re mom and I, we were just saying the same thing. It could be time we tossed you out on the street. Drop you off in an orphanage somewhere, make you their problem. I’m serious, we’re not sentimental people.
[as Gus calls Hazel]
Gus: What’s the matter? Talk to me.
Hazel: [crying] I don’t know. Everything. I want to go to Amsterdam, Gus. And I want Van Houten to tell us what happens after his book. I also don’t really want this particular life. But it’s really just the sky, the sky that’s making me sad. And there’s this pathetic old swing set that my dad built for me when I was a kid . And it’s just everything I guess.
[Gus is sat on the swing set with Hazel]
Gus: Hazel Grace, I hope you realize that you trying to keep your distance from me in no way lessens my affection for you. All your efforts to keep me from you are going to fail.
Hazel: Look, I like you. And I like hanging out with you, and everything. But I can’t let this go on any further.
Gus: Why not?
Hazel: Because I don’t want to hurt you.
Gus: I wouldn’t mind.
Hazel: No, you don’t understand.
Gus: I do understand.
Hazel: No, you don’t understand…
Gus: No, I know what you’re trying to say, and I, Hazel, I’m saying, I wouldn’t mind. It’d be a privilege to have my heart broken by you. Hazel, I’m…
Hazel: Gus, I’m a grenade! One day I’m going to explode and I’m going to obliterate everything in my wake. And, I don’t know, I just, I feel like it’s my responsibility to minimize the casualties.
Gus: A grenade?
Hazel: And that’s why I don’t have a hamster.
Gus: In case you were wondering that’s why I like you, Hazel Grace. You’re just so busy being you, you have no idea how utterly unprecedented you are.
Hazel: You can’t say stuff like that.
Gus: What? That’s how I speak to all my friends.
[Hazel gives him a look of disbelief]
Gus: I know. I know. Friends.
[after she finds out she is after all going to Amsterdam]
Hazel: Okay, lungs. You keep your s**t together for one week, you got it? One more week.
[on the plane, Gus puts one of his cigarettes in his mouth]
Flight Attendant: Sir?
Flight Attendant: There’s no smoking on this plane. Or any plane.
Gus: I don’t smoke.
Hazel: Yeah, no. It’s just a metaphor. He puts the killing thing in his mouth, but he doesn’t actually give it the power to kill him.
Flight Attendant: Well, that metaphor, it’s prohibited on today’s flight.
[as the plane is starting to take off]
Gus: Look at the ground! Look. Nothing has ever looked like this in all of human history! Look at the cars. They’re like…
[Hazel kisses Gus on the cheek]
Frannie: You two are so adorable.
Hazel: We’re just friends.
Gus: Well, she is. I’m not.
[Frannie giives Hazel a new dress to wear out to dinner with Gus]
Frannie: I’m just saying.
Hazel: [laughs] You’re just saying? What, you’re saying that you’re totally fine with your teenage daughter running free with an older boy in a city that’s famous for its vice and debauchery is totally fine with you?
Frannie: Yeah, that’s pretty much exactly what I’m saying.
Waiter: Do you know what Dom Pérignon said after he invented champagne?
[Gus and Hazel shake their heads]
Waiter: “Come quickly,” he said. “I’m tasting the stars.” Welcome to Oranjee.
[referring to the champagne]
Gus: And, sir, something tells me we’re going to need a little bit more of this.
Waiter: We have bottled all the stars for you this evening, my young friends.
[as Hazel and Gus start eating their food]
Gus: I want this dragon carrot risotto to become a person so that I can take it to Vegas and marry it.
Hazel: I like your suit.
Gus: Thank you. It’s the first time I’ve ever worn it.
Hazel: That’s not the suit you wear to funerals?
Gus: No. That one is not nearly this nice. When I first got sick they told me I had an eighty-five percent chance of being cancer-free. Great odds. But that meant a year of torture, the loss of my leg, and still a fifteen percent chance it might fail. Just before the surgery I asked my parents if I could buy a really nice suit.
Hazel: So, it’s your death suit.
Gus: That’s what it is.
Hazel: I have one of those. I got it for my fifteenth birthday. A dress. I don’t necessarily think I’d wear it on a date, though.
Gus: So, we’re on a date?
[after they’ve finished eating their meal]
Gus: How about angels?
Hazel: Mmm, no.
Hazel: Mmm, no. Well, maybe. I don’t know. I guess I wouldn’t go as far as to say no, but I would like some evidence.
Hazel: What about you?
Gus: I mean, not like a heaven where you ride on a unicorn all day and live in a mansion made of clouds, but yes, I definitely believe in something. I mean, otherwise what’s the point?
Hazel: Maybe there is no point.
Gus: I won’t accept that.
Gus: I am in love with you.
[Hazel looks shocked]
Gus: You heard me.
Gus: I am in love with you. And I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we’re all doomed, and that one day all of our labors will be returned to dust. And I know that the sun will swallow the only Earth we will ever have. And I am in love with you. Sorry.
[as Gus and Hazel visit Van Houten]
Van Houten: Which of you is Augustus Waters?
Gus: I am. And that’s Hazel.
Hazel: Mr. Van Houten, thank you so much for writing back to us.
Van Houten: Mm. Clearly an error in judgment. Yours are the first missives to which I’ve replied, and look where it got me.
Van Houten: Did you dress like her on purpose?
Hazel: Kind of.
Gus: And, incidentally, sir, we both really wanted to thank you for dinner last night and for the champagne.
Hazel: It was amazing. It was magical.
Van Houten: We bought them dinner last night?
Gus: It was our pleasure.
Van Houten: You’ve come a long way. What can I do for you?
Hazel: We have some questions…
Van Houten: Mm-hmm.
Hazel: Obviously, about what happens at the end of your book. Uh, specifically to those who Anna leaves behind. Like her mom, the Dutch Tulip Man…
Van Houten: How familiar are you with Swedish hip-hop?
Hazel: I would say, limited.
Van Houten: Uh, Lidewij, play Bomfalleralla immediately.
[as the music plays loudly Gus and Hazel look baffled at Van Houten]
Hazel: We don’t speak Swedish, sir.
Van Houten: Who the hell speaks Swedish? The important thing is not what nonsense the voices are saying but what the voices are feeling.
Hazel: Alright, so at the end of the book, Anna’s…
Van Houten: Let’s imagine you’re racing a tortoise. The tortoise has a ten-yard head start. In the time it takes you to run ten yards the tortoise has moved maybe one yard, and so on, forever. You’re faster than the tortoise, but you can never catch him, you see? You can only decrease his lead. Now, certainly, you can run past the tortoise as long as you don’t contemplate the mechanics involved. But the question of “how” turns out to be so complicated that no one really solved it until Cantor’s proof that some infinities are bigger than other infinities. I assume that answers your question.
[Gus and Hazel are completely baffled by Van Houten’s behavior]
Gus: Hazel, I’m sorry. I have no idea what’s going on.
Van Houten: Yet you seemed so intelligent in print, Mr. Waters. Has the cancer found its way into your brain?
Hazel: Can we, for one second, just focus on Anna? Please? I understand that the story ends in the middle of a sentence because she dies, or that she becomes too sick to continue…
Van Houten: I am not interested in talking about that book.
Hazel: But that doesn’t mean that her family and friends don’t have a future, right? Right?
Van Houten: I said I’m not interested.
Hazel: But you promised!
Van Houten: Nothing happens! They’re fiction! They cease to exist the moment the novel ends.
Hazel: But they can’t! I get it in a literary sense or whatever, but…
Van Houten: I can’t do this, Lidewij.
Van Houten: I will not indulge your childish whims! I refuse to pity you in the manner in which you are accustomed.
Hazel: Hey, I do not want your pity!
Van Houten: Of course you do! Like all sick kids, your existence depends on it. You are fated to live out your days…
Van Houten: …as the child you were when diagnosed. The child who believes there is a life after a novel ends. And we as adults, we pity this. So, we pay for your treatments, your oxygen machines.
Lidewij: Peter, that’s enough!
Van Houten: You are a side-effect to an evolutionary process that cares little for individual lives. You are a failed experiment in mutation.
Hazel: Listen, douchepants, there is nothing that you’re going to tell me about my disease that I don’t already know! Okay? I came here for one thing and one thing only. That is for you to tell me what happens at the end of this goddamn book!
Van Houten: I can’t tell you.
Van Houten: I can’t.
[suddenly Hazel smacks Van Houten’s drink out of his hand]
Hazel: Then you make something up!
[Gus rises to stand next to Hazel]
Van Houten: I want you to leave.
[as Hazel and Gus are leaving]
Van Houten: Have you ever stopped to ask yourself why you care so much about your silly questions?
Hazel: Oh, go f*** yourself!
[outside Van Houten’s front door Hazel looks emotion and shaken]
Gus: Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. I’ll write you a sequel. Alright? I’ll write you, I’ll write you a sequel. It’ll be better than any piece of s**t that drunk guy could write. It’ll have blood, and guts, and sacrifice. You’ll love it.
Hazel: I’m so sorry that I spent your wish on that a**hole.
Gus: No, you did not spend it on him. You spent it on us.
[as they visit Anne Frank’s house and hear the vocal recording of Anne Frank’s diary]
Anne Frank: We’re much too young to deal with these problems but they keep thrusting themselves on us until, finally, we’re forced to think up a solution.
[as the recording from Anne Frank’s diary continues]
Anne Frank: And yet, when I look up at the sky I somehow feel that everything will change for the better. That this cruelty too will end.
[the recording from Anne Frank’s diary continues]
Anne Frank: All is as it should be. God wishes to see people happy. Where there is hope there is life.
[they walk further into the room and notice photos of the family on the wall]
Lidewij: The only member of the Frank family to survive was Otto. Anne’s father.
[Anne Frank’s diary recording continues]
Anne Frank: At such moments I can’t think about the misery but about the beauty that still remains. Try to recapture the happiness within yourself. Think of all the beauty in everything around you and be happy.
[Gus and Hazel stare at each other for a moment then share their first kiss]
Hazel: I fell in love with him the way you fall asleep, slowly, and then all at once.
[they enter Gus’s hotel room kissing and getting undressed]
Gus: It just sort of like ends right above where the knee would be, and it tapers off.
Gus: My leg. You know, just so you’re prepared.
[Gus looks away, Hazel grabs his face and turns his face to her]
Hazel: Gus, get over yourself.
Hazel: I love you so much, Augustus Waters.
Gus: I love you too, Hazel Grace. So, so much.
[as they start kissing Hazel stops]
Hazel: Augustus, I can’t breathe.
Gus: It’s okay.
[Gus helps her to put her oxygen tube back under her nose]
Gus: Hazel. You’re so beautiful.
Gus: No, you’re so beautiful. I’m so lucky.
Hazel: I’m so lucky.
[as they go for a private walk in Amsertdam]
Hazel: What is it?
Gus: So just before you went into the hospital, there was this, I felt an ache in my hip. So, I had a PET scan, and it lit up like a Christmas tree. The lining of my chest, my liver, just everywhere.
[Hazel closes her eyes and begins to cry]
Gus: I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.
Hazel: It’s so unfair.
Gus: Apparently, the world is not a wish-granting factory.
[Gus wipes his tears and turns to Hazel]
Gus: Hey, listen. Don’t you worry about me, Hazel Grace, okay? I’m going to find a way to hang around here and annoy you for a long time.
Gus: I don’t suppose you can just forget about this? You know, just treat me like I’m not dying.
Hazel: I don’t think you’re dying, Augustus. You have just got a touch of cancer.
[Gus smiles at her]
Gus: Would it be absolutely ludicrous if we just made out? Right now?
[they start kissing]
Hazel: So how are your eyes, Isaac?
Isaac: They’re good. They’re not in my head is the only problem. Besides that…
[Isaac chuckles and Hazel laughs]
Gus: Well, um, it appears my entire body’s made out of cancer now. So, sorry to one-up you, dude.
Gus: I need speakers at my funeral. So, I was hoping that you and Isaac, but mostly you, would be kind enough to whip something up.
Hazel: I would love to do that.
Gus: Thank you.
[Hazel kisses Gus]
Isaac: You guys are cute. Makes me sick.
Isaac: You guys are gross.
Hazel: Have you heard from Monica?
Isaac: Nope, not a thing.
Hazel: She hasn’t even texted you to make sure you’re okay?
Isaac: No, not once. Not once.
Gus: I hate that girl.
Isaac: But there are tons of other girls. You guys don’t have to worry about me. I’m like in support group, there’s this new girl, and she has these humongous…
[Isaac gestures to his chest and Hazel laughs]
Hazel: How do you even know that?
Isaac: I’m blind, but I’m not that blind.
[as they are outside Monica’s house to throw eggs at her car]
Hazel: Gus, I think we should wait until dark.
Gus: It’s all dark to Isaac.
Isaac: Dude, I’m not deaf. I’m just blind. So I can hear when you make fun of my disability.
Gus: I’m sorry.
Isaac: And I don’t love it.
Gus: I’m sorry.
Gus: Hello. Are you Monica’s mother?
Monica’s Mom: I am.
Gus: Hello, ma’am. Your daughter, she’s done a great injustice. So we’ve come here seeking revenge. You see, we may not look like much, but between the three of us, we have five legs, four eyes, and two and a half working pairs of lungs. But we also have two dozen eggs, so if I were you, I would go back inside.
[looking confused Monica’s mom goes back into the house]
Isaac: Dude, it actually worked?
Isaac: That was the stupidest speech I’ve ever heard. That actually worked?
[as the ambulance takes Gus away]
Hazel: I wish I could say that Augustus Waters kept his sense of humor until the end. That not for a single moment did his courage waver. But that is not what happened.
[Hazel takes Gus to Funky Bones for a picnic]
Hazel: What are you thinking about?
Gus: Oblivion. I know it’s kid’s stuff or whatever, but I always thought I would be a hero. I always thought I’d have a grand story to tell, you know? Something they’d publish in all the papers. And I mean, I was supposed to be special.
Hazel: You are special, Augustus.
Gus: Yeah, I know. But you know what I mean.
Hazel: I do know what you mean. I just don’t agree with you. You know, this obsession you have with being remembered.
Gus: Don’t get mad.
Hazel: I am mad. I’m mad because I think you’re special, and is that not enough? You think that the only way to lead a meaningful life is for everyone to remember you, for everyone to love you. Guess what, Gus. This is your life, okay? This is all you get. You get me, and you get your family, and you get this world, and that’s it. And if that’s not enough for you, then I’m sorry, but it’s not nothing. Because I love you, and I’m going to remember you.
Gus: I’m sorry. You’re right.
Hazel: I just wish you’d be happy with that.
Hazel: One of the less bulls**tty conventions of the cancer genre is the convention known as the “Last Good Day”, when it seems like the inexorable decline has suddenly plateaued, when the pain is, just for a minute, bearable. The problem, of course, is that there’s no way of knowing that your last good day is your last good day. At the time, it’s just another decent day.
Frannie: Well, then you’ve got to stay healthy. Come on, just eat something, honey.
Hazel: “Stay healthy”? Okay, I’m not healthy, and I’m going to die! Do you realize that I’m dying, and you’re going to be here, and you’re not going to have anyone to look after, or hover around, and you’re not going to be a mother anymore. And I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do about that! So, can I please go?
Frannie: Why would you say that to me?
Michael: Hazel, do not…
Hazel: Because you said that!
Frannie: What are you talking about?
Hazel: In the ICU.
Frannie: Hazel, that’s not the truth. I was wrong. Alright? Even if you died…
Frannie: Even when you die, I’ll always be your mother. It’s the greatest thing I’ll ever be.
Hazel: That is my biggest fear, mom. When I am gone you’re not going to have a life anymore. You’re just going to sit and you’re going to stare at walls, or you’re going to off yourselves, or…
Michael: Hazel, honey, we’re not going to do that.
Frannie: [to Hazel] Losing you, that is going to hurt like hell. But you of all people know it’s possible to live with pain. You just do it.
Hazel: What’s going on, guys?
Isaac: Tell her, Gus.
Gus: I wanted to attend my own funeral. I mean, I’m hopeful that I’ll be able to attend as a ghost, but however, just in case it doesn’t work out, I decided to plan this pre-funeral.
[reading his eulogy for Gus]
Isaac: Augustus Waters was a cocky son of a b**ch. But we forgave him. Not because of his superhuman good looks, or because he only got nineteen years when he should’ve gotten way more.
Gus: Eighteen years, buddy.
Isaac: Dude, come on. Really? I’m assuming you have a little more time, you interrupting bastard. Interrupt me in the middle of my eulogy, you’re supposed to be dead.
[continues his eulogy for Gus]
Isaac: But when the scientists from the future come to my house with robot eyes, and they tell me to try them on, I’m going to tell those scientists to pi** off. Because Gus, I don’t even want to see a world without you. I don’t. I don’t want to see a world without Augustus Waters. Then, having made my point, I’ll probably put the robot eyes on, because, you know, come on. They’re robot eyes. Sounds awesome. And I don’t know. I just, this is just so hard. Um, Godspeed.
[giving her eulogy for Gus]
Hazel: Hello. My name is Hazel Grace Lancaster and Augustus Waters was the star-crossed love of my life. Ours was an epic love story and I probably won’t be able to get more than a sentence out without disappearing into a puddle of tears. Like all real love stories ours will die with us, as it should. You know, I’d kind of hoped that he’d be the one eulogizing me. Because there’s really no one else.
[continues her eulogy for Gus]
Hazel: Yeah, no. I’m not going to talk about our love story, because I can’t. So, instead, I’m going to talk about math. I am not a mathematician, but I do know this. There are infinite numbers between zero and one. There’s point-one, point-one-two, and point-one-one-two, and an infinite collection of others. Of course, there is a bigger infinite set of numbers
between zero and two, or between zero and a million. Some infinities are simply bigger than other infinities. A writer that we used to like taught us that.
Hazel: You know, I want more numbers than I’m likely to get. And, God, do I want more days for Augustus Waters than what he got. But, Gus, my love, I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity.
[Hazel starts crying as does Gus]
Hazel: Hold on.
[she tries to compose herself to carry on with the eulogy]
Hazel: You gave me a forever, within the numbered days. And for that, I am eternally grateful. I love you so much.
Gus: I love you, too.
Hazel: Augustus Waters died eight days later in the ICU. When the cancer, which was made of him, stopped his heart, which was also made of him. It was unbearable. The whole thing. Every second, worse than the last.
Hazel: One of the first things they ask you in the ER is to rate your pain on a scale from one to ten. I’ve been asked this question hundreds of times, and I remember once when I couldn’t catch my breath, and it felt like my chest was on fire, the nurse asked me to rate the pain. Though I couldn’t speak, I held up nine fingers. Later, when I started feeling better the nurse came in and she called me a fighter. “You know how I know?” she said. “You called a ten a nine.” But that wasn’t the truth. I didn’t call it a nine because I was brave. The reason I called it a nine was because I was saving my ten. And this was it. This was the great and terrible ten.
Minister: Now, we are going to hear from Gus’s special friend, Hazel Lancaster.
[Hazel walks up to the front]
Hazel: Not that it really matters, but I was his girlfriend.
[she takes out her eulogy to read but changes her mind]
Hazel: There’s a beautiful quote in Gus’s home that reads “if you want the rainbow, you have to deal with the rain.” Even in his last few days, um…
Hazel: [voice over] I didn’t believe a word.
Hazel: He was always able to crack a smile. And to make you feel better about the situation…
Hazel: [voice over] But that’s okay. I knew this was the right thing to do. Funerals, I’d decided, are not for the dead. They’re for the living.
[after Gus’s funeral Van Houten gets in Hazel’s car]
Van Houten: Omnis cellula e cellula. Your boy Waters and I corresponded quite a bit in his last days.
Hazel: Oh. So, you read your fan mail now?
Van Houten: I wouldn’t exactly call him a fan. He detested me. But he was quite insistent I attend his funeral and tell you what became of Anna and her mother. So here I am. And that’s your answer: Omnis cellula e cellula. “Life comes from life.”
Hazel: I’m really not in the mood.
Van Houten: You don’t want an explanation?
Hazel: No, I don’t.
Van Houten: You remind me of her.
Hazel: I remind a lot of people of a lot of people.
Van Houten: My daughter was eight. And she suffered beautifully for so long.
Hazel: She had leukemia like Anna?
Van Houten: Just like Anna.
Hazel: I’m very sorry for your loss.
Van Houten: And I’m sorry for yours. And sorry for ruining your trip.
Hazel: You didn’t ruin our trip. We had an amazing trip.
Van Houten: Are you familiar with the “Trolley Problem?” There’s a thought experiment in the field of ethics known as the “Trolley Problem.” Philippa Foot was an English philosopher…
Hazel: Oh, my God.
Van Houten: Hazel, I’m, I’m trying to explain something to you. I’m trying to give you what you wanted.
Hazel: No, you’re not! You are a drunk, and you’re a failure and I need you to get out of my car right now so that I can go home, and be by myself and grieve!
[Van Houten takes out a piece of paper and offers it to Hazel]
Van Houten: You’ll want to read this.
[Hazel who grabs it and crumples it in anger]
Hazel: I don’t want to read anything! Can you just get out of my car?
[Van Houten opens the car door and looks at Hazel for a moment]
Hazel: Please get out of my car!
Van Houten: Fine.
[Van Houten gets out, Hazel drives off crying]
Michael: [to Hazel] It was a privilege, though, wasn’t it? To love him? Gives you an idea how we feel about you.
[Hazel and Isaac sit out in her back garden]
Isaac: Gus really loved you, you know?
Hazel: I know.
Isaac: He wouldn’t shut up about it.
Isaac: It was annoying. He talked about you so much.
[Hazel laughs softly]
Hazel: I didn’t find it that annoying.
Isaac: I know. I know you didn’t.
[Isaac puts his arm around Hazel]
Isaac: Did you get that letter from your author friend?
Hazel: Ew, he’s not my friend. How do you know about that?
Isaac: Well, I was talking to him at the cemetery and he said he came all this way to give that letter to you.
Hazel: Yeah, well, I’m over it. I have no interest in reading another word of that a**hole’s again.
Isaac: No, he didn’t write it. Gus wrote it.
Isaac: Apparently Gus wrote something down and then sent it to Van Houten.
Hazel: Oh, my God.
[we see Hazel reading from the paper Van Houten had given her from Gus]
Gus: [voice over] Mr. Van Houten, I’m a good person, but a s**tty writer. You’re a s**tty person, but a good writer. I think we’d make a good team. I don’t want to ask you for any favors, but if you have the time, and from what I saw, you have plenty, please fix this for me. It’s a eulogy for Hazel. She asked me to write one, and I’m trying. I just, I could use a little flair. See, the thing is, we all want to be remembered. But Hazel’s different.
Gus: [voice over] Hazel knows the truth. She didn’t want a million admirers. She just wanted one. And she got it. Maybe she wasn’t loved widely, but she was loved deeply. And isn’t that more than most of us get?
Gus: [voice over] When Hazel was sick, I knew I was dying, but I didn’t want to say so. She was in the ICU, and I snuck in for ten minutes and I sat with her, before I got caught. Her eyes were closed, her skin, pale. But her hands were still her hands. Still warm, and her nails were painted this dark blue-black color, and I just held them. And I willed myself to imagine a world without us, and what a worthless world that would be. She’s so beautiful. You don’t get tired of looking at her. You never worry if she’s smarter than you because you know she is. She’s funny without ever being mean. I love her.
[last lines; Hazel lies on the grass to read Gus’s letter]
Gus: [voice over] God, I love her. I’m so lucky to love her, Van Houten. You don’t get to choose if you get hurt in this world, but you do have a say in who hurts you. And I like my choices. I hope she likes hers. Okay, Hazel Grace?
[Hazel holds the letter close to her and looks up at the sky]