Quotes from Markus Zusak

him. "Don't think. Just swallow." As soon as Mama handed

So many humans. So many colors. 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.

Certainly, war meant dying, but it always shifted the ground beneath a person's feet when it was someone who had once lived and breathed in close proximity.

Soon, there was nothing but scraps of words littered between her legs and all around her. Ther words. Why did they have to exist? Without them, there wouldn't be any of this. Without words, the Fuhrer was nothing. There would be no limping prisoners, no need for consolation or wordly tricks to make us feel better.

Everything was so desperately noisy in the dark when he was alone. Each time he moved, there was the sound of a crease. He felt like a man in a paper suit.

Look at the colors, Papa said. It's hard not to like a man who not only notices the colors, but speaks them.

Meine Erdäpfel," he said. "My earth apples.

even death has a heart

are going to die. I am in all truthfulness attempting to be cheerful about this whole topic, though most people find themselves hindered in believing me, no matter my protestations. Please, trust me. I most definitely

Do you still play the accordian?

maybe everyone can live beyond what their capable of

Why can't the world hear? I ask myself. Within a few moments I ask it many times. Because it doesn't care, I finally answer, and I know I'm right. It's like I've been chosen. But chosen for what? I ask. The answer's quite simple: To care.

It's a lot easier, she realised, to be on the verge of something than to actually be it.

THE SPOKEN TRUTH OF RUDY STEINER "I guess I'm better at leaving things behind than stealing them.

I guess humans like to watch a little destruction. Sandcastles, houses of cards, that's where they begin. Their great skill is their capacity to escalate. The thought of missing it was eased when she

I carried them in my fingers, like suitcases. Or I'd throw them over my shoulder. It was only the children I carried in my arms.

You will be caked in your own body.

A SMALL PIECE OF TRUTH*** I do not carry a sickle or a scythe. I only wear a hooded black robe when it's cold. And I don't have those skull-like facial features you seem to enjoy pinning on me from a distance. You want to know what I truly look like? I'll help you out. Find yourself a mirror while I continue.

to the brute strength of the man's gentleness, his thereness.

He is straight ahead, straight out, straight and hard, and ready to fight. Hope you're better than your brother, someone calls. It hurts me. Wounds me. I am. But not as much as that.

It was one of those moments of perfect tiredness, of having conquered not only the work at hand, but the night who had blocked the way. Papa

Anhelaba volver a la inconsciencia de entonces, a sentir tanto amor sin saberlo y a confundirlo con las risas y el pan untado con poco más que el aroma de la mermelada.

She seemed to collect the words in her hand, pat them together, and hurl them across the table.

MówiÄ…, ?e sÄ… na Å›wiecie niezliczeni Å›wiÄ™ci, którzy nie majÄ… nic wspólnego z koÅ›cioÅ'em i niemal nie zdajÄ… sobie sprawy z istnienia Boga. Ale podobno Bóg chodzi wÅ›ród tych ludzi bez ich wiedzy.