Quotes from Markus Zusak

The minutes were cruel. Hours were punishing. Standing above him at all moments of awakeness was the hand of time, and it didn't hesitate to wring him out. It smiled and squeezed and let him live. What great malice there could be in allowing something to live.

The only truth I truly know is that I am haunted by humans.

People observe the colors of a day only at its beginnings and ends, but to me it's quite clear that a day merges through a multitude of shades and intonations, with each passing moment. A single hour can consist of thousands of different colors. Waxy yellows, cloud-spat blues. Murky darknesses.

She looks up. She speaks in a whisper. 'The sky is soft today, Max. The clouds are so soft and sad, and...' She looks away and crosses her arms. She thinks of her papa going to war and grabs her jacket at each side of her body. 'And it's cold, Max. It's so cold...

I'm compelled to continue on, because although it's not true for every person on earth, it's true for the vast majority—that death waits for no man—and if he does, he doesn't usually wait very long.

The bombs were coming - and so was I.

It take a lot of love to hate like this

caughtoutedness. Some examples: People jumping out of alleys. Schoolteachers suddenly being aware of every sin you've ever committed. Police showing up at the door each time a leaf turns or a distant gate slams shut.

Ayak seslerimiz yank?lan?yordu ve bitmesini istemiyordum. KoÅŸmak, gülmek ve sonsuza dek böyle hissetmek istiyordum. Yapt???m?z ÅŸeyin gerçekliÄŸi etimize saplan?p bizi durdurduÄŸunda herhangi bir huzursuzluk yaÅŸamak istemiyordum. Orada, o anda kalmak, ne diyeceÄŸimizi veya ne yapaca??m?z? bilmediÄŸimiz baÅŸka yerlere gitmemek istiyordum.

Nel corso degli anni ho visto tanti giovani che credono di correre gli uni contro gli altri. Non è così. È verso di me che corrono.

They keep triggering inside me. They harass my memory. I see them tall in their heaps, all mounted on top of each other. There is air like plastic, a horizon like setting glue. There are skies manufactured by people, punctured and leaking, and there are soft, coal-colored clouds, beating like black hearts. And then. There is death. Making his way through all of it. On the surface: unflappable, unwavering. Below: unnerved, untied, and undone.

The survivors. They're the ones I can't stand to look at, although on many occasions, I still fail. I deliberately seek out the colours to keep my mind off them, but now and then, I witness the ones who are left behind, crumbling amongst the jigsaw puzzle of realisation, despair and surprise. They have punctured hearts. They have beaten lungs.

Bazen insanlar çok güzel oluyordu. GörünüÅŸleriyle deÄŸil. Söyledikleriyle de deÄŸil. Sadece varl?klar?yla.

Hay algo peor que un chico que te odie? Un chico que te quiera.

No puedes quedarte ahí sentado esperando que el nuevo mundo se adapte a ti, eres tú el que tiene que adaptarse....

untangled him and carried him out. High above

and on most occasions she was sorry to wake up. Everything disappeared when she was asleep.

Una niña de once años es muchas cosas, pero no tonta.

It's much easier, she realized, to be on the verge of something than to actually be it. This would still take time.

A woman of wire had laid herself down, her scream traveling the street, till it fell sideways like a rolling coin starved of momentum.

Sola como estaba, carecía de la disciplina necesaria para mantenerse convenientemente alejada.

Last note from you narrator; I am haunted by humans.

When life robs you, sometimes, you have to rob it back

If a guy like you can stand up and do what you did, then maybe everyone can. Maybe everyone can live beyond what they're capable of.