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a372225
|
She stood up and took the book from him, and as he smiled over his shoulder at some other kids, she threw it away and kicked him as hard as she could in the vicinity of the groin. Well, as you might imagine, Ludwig Schmeikl certainly buckled, and on the way down, he was punched in the ear. When he landed, he was set upon. When he was set upon, he was slapped and clawed and obliterated by a girl who was utterly consumed with rage. His skin w..
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thief
fight
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Markus Zusak |
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57fac3e
|
Stealing it, in a sick kind of sense, was like earning it.
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Markus Zusak |
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d4e8b6f
|
She was a Jew feeder without a question in the world on that man's first night in Molching. She was an arm reacher, deep into a mattress, to deliver a sketchbook to a teenage girl. (84.25)
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Markus Zusak |
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77298a4
|
On June 23, 1942, there was a group of French Jews in a German prison, on Polish soil. The first person I took was close to the door, his mind racing, then reduced to pacing, then slowing down, slowing down.... Please believe me when I tell you that I picked up each would that day as if it were newly born. I even kissed a few weary, poisoned cheeks. I listened to their last, gasping cries. Their vanishing words. I watched their love visions..
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the-book-thief
world-war-ii
french
jews
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Markus Zusak |
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c40159e
|
See, Cameron. The only things I care about in this life are me, you, Mum, Dad, Steve and Sarah. And maybe Miffy. The rest of the world means nothing to me. The rest of the world can rot.' Am I like that too?' You? No way.' There's a slight gap in his words. 'And that's your problem. You care about everything.' He's right. I do.
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Markus Zusak |
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a8a4f50
|
It feels like spoken words, this bridge. I want it but fear it. God, I want so desperately to reach the other side - just like I want the words. I want my words to build bridges strong enough to walk on. I want them to tower over the world so I can stand up on them and walk to the other side.
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words
world
other-side
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Markus Zusak |
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1c700b6
|
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.
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Markus Zusak |
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b17a328
|
Yes, the sky was now a devastating, home-cooked red. The small German town had been flung apart one more time. Snowflakes of ash fell so lovelily you were tempted to stretch out your tongue to catch them, taste them. Only, they would have scorched your lips. They would have cooked your mouth.
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Markus Zusak |
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926c4cd
|
I suppose he'll die soon. I'm expecting it, like you do for a dog that's seventeen. There's no way to know how I'll react. He'll have faced his own placid death and slipped without a sound inside himself. Mostly, I imagine I'll crouch there at the door, fall onto him, and cry hard into the stench of his fur. I'll wait for him to wake up, but he won't. I'll bury him. I'll carry him outside, feeling his warmth turn to cold as the horizon fray..
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Markus Zusak |
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6e17746
|
In the basement of 33 Himmel Street, Max Vandenburg could feel the fists of an entire nation. One by one they climbed into the ring to beat him down. They made him bleed. They let him suffer. Millions of them--until one last time, when he gathered himself to his feet...
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Markus Zusak |
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ee4fdfd
|
I only know that all of those people would have sensed me that night, excluding the youngest of the children. I was the suggestion. I was the advice, my imagined feet walking into the kitchen and down the corridor.
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Markus Zusak |
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62b3456
|
As it turned out, Ilsa Hermann not only gave Liesel Meminger a book that day. She also gave her a reason to spend time in the basement, her favorite place, first with Papa, then Max. She gave her a reason to write her own words, to see that words had also brought her to life. "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."
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Markus Zusak |
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e8e6ec1
|
I'd seen glimpses of a different me. It was a different me because in those increments of time I thought I actually became a winner. The truth, however, is painful. It was a truth that told me with a scratching internal brutality that I was me, and that winning wan't natural for me. It had to be fought for, in the echoes and trodden footprints of my mind. In a way, I had to scavenge for moments of alrightness.
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|
mind
truth
scavenge
footprints
winning
brutality
natural
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Markus Zusak |
|
aaadb67
|
A murderer should probably do many things, but he should never, under any circumstances, come home.
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Markus Zusak |
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f07596b
|
For a moment, I panic. It's that feeling of falling when you know without question, that you've lost control of your car, or made a mistake that's beyond repair. 'What do I do now?' I ask desperately. 'Tell me! What do I do now?' He remains calm. He looks at me closely and says, 'Keep living, Ed... It's only the pages that stop here.
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Markus Zusak |
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7d6a7f4
|
He's most likely robbing the bank as a paycheck on the world for winning the ugliness prize at his local fete three years running.
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|
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Markus Zusak |
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2be7ee8
|
In all honesty (and I know I'm complaining excessively now), I was still getting over Stalin, in Russia. The so-called second revolution--the murder of his own people. Then came Hitler. They say that war is death's best friend, but I must offer you a different point of view on that one. To me, war is like the new boss who expects the impossible. He stands over your shoulder repeating one thing, incessantly: "Get it done, get it done." So ..
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Markus Zusak |
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3c5a9bc
|
Words are life
|
|
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Markus Zusak |
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cc9de7e
|
A statue of the book thief stood in the courtyard... it's very rare, don't you think, for a statue to appear before it's subject has become famous?
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Markus Zusak |
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ddf3fa6
|
As we walk back, it feels like the city is engulfing us. Adrenalin still pours through our veins. Sparks flow through to our fingers. We've still been running in the mornings, but the city's different then. It's filled with hope and with bristles of winter sunshine. In the evening, it's like it dies, waiting to be born again the next morning.
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|
hope
dies
fingers
sparks
morning
sunshine
walk
running
evening
city
|
Markus Zusak |
|
a80d9c9
|
When a person's last response was Saumensch or Saukerl or Arschloch, you knew you had them beaten.
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|
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Markus Zusak |
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075c74c
|
Very quickly, very suddenly, words fell through my mind. They landed on the floor of my thoughts, and in there, down there, I started to pick the words up. They were excerpts of truth gathered from inside me.
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|
words
mind
thoughts
truth
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Markus Zusak |
|
d08c4e4
|
For a moment, I debated whether I should tell someone about the words I'd started writing down, but I couldn't. In a way, I felt ashamed, even though my writing was the one thing that whispered okayness in my ear. I didn't speak it, to anyone.
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|
words
writing
okayness
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Markus Zusak |
|
9a137cc
|
It's funny how when you watch people from a long distance, it all seems voiceless. It's like watching a silent movie. You guess what people say. You watch their mouths move and imagine the sounds of their feet hitting the ground. You wonder what they're talking about and, even more so, what they might be thinking
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Markus Zusak |
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c051198
|
Shadows of cloud lurked in the water, like holes the sun forgot about.
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|
forgot
holes
sun
shadows
water
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Markus Zusak |
|
5a4c93c
|
His soul sat up. It met me.Those kinds of souls always do - the best ones. The ones who rise up and say, 'I know who you are and I am ready. Not that I want to go of course, but I will come'.
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|
the-book-thief
soul
|
Markus Zusak |
|
e637b50
|
Once in while a man or a woman--no, they were not men and women; they were Jews--would find Liesel's face among the crowd. They would meet her with their defeat, and the book thief could do nothing but watch them back in a long, incurable moment before they were gone again. She could only hope they could read the depth of sorrow in her face, to recognize that it was true, and not fleeting. She understood she was utterly worthless to these p..
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Markus Zusak |
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6d75d81
|
He watched them grow, until eventually, great forests of words had risen throughout Germany.... It was a nation of farmed thoughts.
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Markus Zusak |
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4d9ced5
|
I'm twenty years old and look at me-- there isn't a thing I want to do
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Markus Zusak |
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f98948c
|
The scrawled words of practice stood magnificently on the wall by the stairs, jagged and childlike and sweet. They looked on as both the hidden Jew and the girl slept, hand to shoulder. They breathed. German and Jewish lungs.
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the-book-thief
nazi-germany
jewish
|
Markus Zusak |
|
d4f748a
|
I did it on purpose.
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|
|
Markus Zusak |
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1f27ad0
|
Lua and Marie are holding hands. They look like they're so happy, just inside this moment, watching the kids and the lights on their old fibro house. Lua kisses her. Just softly on the lips. And she kisses back. Sometimes people are beautiful. Not in looks. Not in what they say. Just in what they are.
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Markus Zusak |
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6c6d7ad
|
My own eyes try to sleep, but they don't. They stay wide awake as time snarls forward and silence drops down, like measured thought.
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|
sleep
time
silence
thought
|
Markus Zusak |
|
bf9c725
|
My mouth opened. It happened. Yes, with my head thrown into the sky, I started howling. Arms stretched out next to me, I howled, and everything came out of me. Visions pored up my throat and past voices surrounded me. The sky listened. The city didn't. I didn't care. All I cared about was that I was howling so that I could hear my voice and so I would remember that the boy had intensity and something to offer. I howled, oh, so loud and desp..
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|
i-wouldn-t-lie-down
something-to-offer
desperate
howling
voices
throat
sky
intensity
visions
remember
loud
city
|
Markus Zusak |
|
1a7c279
|
I always marvel at the humans' ability to keep going. They always manage to stagger on even with tears streaming down their faces.
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|
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Markus Zusak |
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417daa4
|
Christ, it's defeaning. 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 have been chosen. But chosen for what? I ask. The answer's quite simple: To Care.... How do people live like this? How do they survive? And maybe that's why I am here. What if they can't anymore?
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|
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Markus Zusak |
|
0e79a07
|
She closes the door completely, and I crouch there. I allow myself to fall forward and rest my head on the door frame. My breath bleeds. My heartbeat drowns my ears.
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|
intoxicating
|
Markus Zusak |
|
eb7114c
|
On the other hand, you're a human--you should understand self-obsession.
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|
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Markus Zusak |
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c52ba96
|
If I'm ever going to be okay, I'll have to earn it.
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|
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Markus Zusak |
|
25518fd
|
It was a Sunday, an arsonist sunrise.
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|
|
Markus Zusak |
|
9c25a75
|
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.
|
|
marriage
|
Markus Zusak |
|
f2bb339
|
Handfuls of frosty water can make almost anyone smile, but it cannot make them forget.
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|
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Markus Zusak |
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22bf84a
|
I look at her wish we could go inside and make love on the couch. Dive inside each other. Take each other. Make each other. Nothing happens, though.
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Markus Zusak |
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e1bd253
|
They're the ones I can't stand to look at, although on occasion I still fail. I deliberately seek out the colors to keep my mind off them, but now and then, 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.
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Markus Zusak |