Quotes from Markus Zusak

It travelled and wondered, but it disclosed no answers. Not yet.

How many people get this chance? And of those few, how many actually take it?

A veces, en el sótano, se levantaba con el regusto del acordeón en sus oídos y saboreaba el resquemor dulzón del champán en la lengua.

Two Giant Words: I'm Sorry

She almost smiles from the pain - from the beauty of it. She's out of herself. Barefoot.

Why me?" I ask God. God says nothing. I laugh and the stars watch. It's good to be alive.

Mesele eski arkada??n, daha iyi bir arkada? olmas? de?ildir. Sadece o ki?iyi daha iyi tan?rs?n?z ve zavall? bir budala gibi davranman?zdan rahats?z olmayaca??n? bilirsiniz.

Just remember that the enemy here is not in front of you.

At the end of the day, it's still up to you, and that's the beauty of books. In so many ways, they never really end.

There is death. Making his way through all of it. On the surface: unflappable, unwavering. Below: unnerved, untied, and undone.

The word communist + a large bonfire + a collection of dead letters + the suffering of her mother + the death of her brother = the Führer

Don't punish yourself," she heard her say again, but there would be punishment and pain, and there would be happiness, too. That was writing.

Eleven-year-old paranoia was powerful. Eleven-year-old relief was euphoric.

Und seid versichert, diese Frau hatte tatsächlich ein Herz, und zwar ein größeres, als die meisten Leute vermutet hätten. Da war eine Menge drin, aufgestapelt, meterhoch auf verborgenen Regalen.

Uyan?k geçirdiÄŸi zamanlarda saatler tepesinde dikiliyor, onu y?pratmakta kesinlikle tereddüt etmiyorlard?. Gülümseyerek can?n? ç?kar?yor ama sonra da yaÅŸamas?na izin veriyorlard?. Bir ÅŸeyin yaÅŸamas?na izin vermekte ancak bu kadar art niyet olabilirdi.

Se puede robar la felicidad? ¿O es sólo otro infernal truco humano?

At times, it makes me want to stop and stay. Stay for ever.

Koliko, zapravo, jedni drugima dopuštamo da se me?usobno upoznamo?

For me, the sky was the color of Jews.

You'll have days of complete lack of faith in your abilities. But you have to keep coming back. That's when you know you're a writer – when you take the failures and appear at the desk again, over and over again.

So ein Typ war er. Ruben Wolf. Wenn er am Leben war, war er okay.

I witness the ones who are left behind, crumbling among the jigsaw puzzle of realization, despair, and surprise. They have punctured hearts. They have beaten lungs.

Vivimos aquí desde hace casi un año y nadie, absolutamente nadie, ha movido jamás un dedo para ayudarnos o hacer que nos sintamos bienvenidos. No es una queja, no me malinterpretes. No esperamos nada. La gente ya tiene suficientes problemas en su vida...

Walter Kugler was on the ground, his blond hair peppered with dirt.