"Looking for Alaska" involves pranks at a boarding school, but it is no care-free romp. John Green's novel is populated by kids with serious difficulties trying to deal with them, and the book handles this subject matter in a realistic way, which means that happy, or even neat, endings are not guaranteed.
The miracle, at least in that time and in that place, was that Jesus—a peasant, a Jew, a nobody in an empire ruled
exclusively by somebodies—was the son of that God, the all-powerful God of Abraham and Moses.
earnest and conscientious activity intended to do or accomplish something
Although she certainly does not excel at
endeavors such as teaching the French language, Madame O’Malley makes a mean stuffing, and she invites all the students who stay on campus to Thanksgiving dinner.
I hated cranberry sauce, but for some reason my mom
persisted in her lifelong belief that it was my very favorite food, even though every single Thanksgiving I politely declined to include it on my plate.
goods whose importation or exportation or possession is prohibited by law
Alaska went in alone and walked out the door five minutes later weighed down by two paper bags filled with
contraband: three cartons of cigarettes, five bottles of wine, and a fifth of vodka for the Colonel.
conspicuously and outrageously bad or reprehensible
Everybody was sitting on sleeping bags, Alaska smoking with
flagrant disregard for the overwhelming flammability of the structure, when the Colonel pulled out a single piece of computer paper and read from it.
When the Eagle
confronted her with expulsion, maybe she blurted out Marya’s name because it was the first that came to mind, because in that moment she didn’t want to get expelled and couldn’t think past that moment.
A dozen white tulips in a plastic vase were precariously perched atop one of the book stacks, and when I asked her about them, she just said, “Jake and my’s anniversary,” and I didn’t care to continue that line of dialogue, so I went back to scanning titles, and I was just wondering how I could go about learning Edgar Allan Poe’s last words (for the record: “Lord help my poor soul”) when I heard Alaska say, “Pudge isn’t even listening to us.”