“Here's what's not beautiful about it: from here, you
can't see the rust or the cracked paint or whatever, but you
can tell what the place really is. You can see how fake it all is.
It's not even hard enough to be made out of plastic. It's a
paper town. I mean, look at it, Q: look at all those culs-de-sac,
those streets that turn in on themselves, all the houses that were
built to fall apart. All those paper people living in their paper
houses, burning the future to stay warm. All the paper kids
drinking beer some bum bought for them at the paper convenience
store. Everyone demented with the mania of owning things. All the
things paper-thin and paper-frail. And all the people, too.
I've lived here for eighteen years and I have never once in my
life come across anyone who cares about anything that
― John Green, Paper