Quotes from Markus Zusak

Por el momento, con la idea tenía suficiente. Era indestructible. Hacerla realidad... Bueno, eso ya era otro cantar.

The distance between us was him.

Restricted as she was from speaking, she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to drag her hand across and pull her over. It didn't matter where. Her mouth, her neck, her cheek. Her skin was empty for it, waiting.

Perhaps it was Rudy who kept her sane, with the stupidity of his talk, his lemon-soaked hair, and his cockiness. He seemed to resonate with a kind of confidence that life was still nothing but a joke - an endless succession of soccer goals, trickery, and a constant repertoire of meaningless chatter.

How about a kiss, Saumensch?" He stood waist-deep in the water for a few moments longer before climbing out and handing her the book. His pants clung to him, and he did not stop walking. In truth, I think he was afraid. Rudy Steiner was scared of the book thief's kiss. He must have longed for it so much. He must have loved her so incredibly hard. So hard that he would never ask for her lips again and would go to his grave without them.

It kills me sometimes, how people die... -Told from the perspective of Death

I don't want to stand in naked silence, pathetically unaware of how to be.

The voice amazed her. It made the endless sky into a ceiling just above his head, and the words bounced back, landing somewhere on the floor of limping Jewish feet.

The only think worse than a boy who hates you; a boy who loves you.

Sì in questo mondo ho visto accadere tantissime cose. Ho assistito ai peggiori cataclismi e lavorato per gli uomini più scellerati. Ma ci sono stati anche altri momenti. Ci sono storie (una manciata, come ho già detto) alle quali consento di distrarmi dalla fatica, come faccio con i colori. Le raccolgo nei luoghi più disparati e improbabili, e mi assicuro di non dimenticarmene mai, mentre lavoro. La Ladra di Libri è una di queste storie.

When you're young, you think everything you do is disposable. You move from now to now, crumpling up time in your hands, tossing it away. You're your own speeding car. You think you can get rid of things, and people too - leave them behind. You don't know about the habit they have, of coming back. Time in dreams is frozen. You can never get away from where you've been.

From a Himmel Street window, he wrote, the star set fire to my eyes.

How could she ever know that someone would pick her story up and carry it with him everywhere?

I'd tell you to go to hell but i don't want to see you again.

That one opportunity leads directly to another, just as risk leads to more risk, life to more life, and death to more death.

Believe in your dreams and they may come true. Believe in yourself and they will surely come true.

el día era gris, el color de Europa

Don't ask him for help," Mama pointed out. "That Saukerl." Papa was staring out the window, as was often his habit. "He left school in fourth grade." Without turning around, Papa answered calmly, but with venom, "Well, don't ask her, either." He dropped some ash outside. "She left school in third grade.

Something worse than a boy who hates you: a boy who loves you.

Like most misery, it started with an apparent happiness

UMA DEFINIÇÃO QUE NÃO SE ENCONTRA NO DICIONÁRIO Não se ir embora: um ato de confiança e amor, frequentemente decifrar pelas crianças

When she drinks the coffee I made, I look at the redness of her lips and wish I could just stand up, walk over, and kiss them. I want to feel the flesh of them and the softness against my own. I want to breathe in her and with her. I want to be able to put my teeth to her neck and have my fingers touch her back and run them through the lovely, mild yellow color of her hair.

I could go on, but I've decided for now that three examples will suffice. Three examples if nothing else, will give you the ashen taste in your mouth that defined my existence during that year.

First the colours. Then the humans. That's how I normally see things. Or at least, how I try.