Quotes from Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

She took a step and didn't want to take any more, but she did.

sometimes the human race likes to crank things up a little. They increase the production of bodies and their escaping souls.

It's pathetic how a man can stand by and do nothing as a whole nation cleans out the garbage and makes itself great"-Hans Junior

It could be worse. I could be you.

I have hated words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right.

I guess humans like to watch a little destruction. Sand castles, houses of cards, that's where they begin. Their great skills is their capacity to escalate.

Papa!" she whispered. "I have no eyes!"He patted the girl's hair. She'd fallen into his trap. "With a smile like that, " Hans Hubermann said, "you don't need eyes.

Even now, I wonder how much of my life is convinced.

I want words at my funeral. But I guess that means you need life in your life.

He killed himself for wanting to live.

How do you tell if something's alive? You check for breathing.

Can a person steal happiness? Or is just another internal, infernal human trick?

She wanted none of those days to end, and it was always with disappointment that she watched the darkness stride forward.

Keep going. You're a mess and you're happy.

If only she could be so oblivious again, to feel such love without knowing it, mistaking it for laughter.

No matter how many times she was told that she was loved, there was no recognition that the proof was in the abandonment.

Trust was accumulated quickly, due primarily to the brute strength of the man's gentleness, his thereness. (p.36)

The only thing worse than a boy who hates you: a boy that loves you.

A DEFINITION NOT FOUND IN THE DICTIONARY Not leaving: an act of trust and love, often deciphered by children

He switched off the light, came back and sat in the chair. In the darkness, Liesel kept her eyes open. She was watching the words.

The Hubbermanns had two of their own (children), but they were older and had moved out...Soon they would be both in the war. One would be making bullets. The other would be shooting them.

It's lucky I was there. Then again, who am I kidding? I'm in most places at least once, and in 1943, I was just about everywhere.

Rosa Hubermann was sitting on the edge of the bed with her husband's accordion tied to her chest. Her fingers hovered above the keys. She did not move. She didn't ever appear to be breathing.

It was the beginning of the greatest Christmas ever. Little food. No presents. But there was a snowman in their basement.