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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| a3b86c3 | Forgive me. Sometimes an answer can vary with a context, if you follow me | John le Carré | ||
| fb8df90 | We pretend a lot of things aren't there. Or we pretend that other things are more important. That's how we survive. | John le Carré | ||
| 9768206 | Outside the school's walls the Swinging Sixties are in full cry, but inside them the band of Empire plays on. Twice-daily chapel services praise the school's war dead to the detriment of its living, value the white man above lesser breeds, and preach chastity to boys who can find sexual stimulation in a Times editorial. | John le Carré | ||
| 54b7c56 | Did I fuck her? No, I bloody well didn't. I made mute, frenzied love to her in pitch darkness for six life-altering hours, in an explosion of tension and lust between two bodies that had desired each other from birth and had only the night to live. | John le Carré | ||
| 4c80738 | And what's life if it isn't invention? Starting with inventing yourself. | John le Carré | ||
| ba2ebb8 | Ashe was typical of that strata of mankind which conducts its human relationships according to a principle of challenge and response. Where there was softness, he would advance; where he found resistance, retreat. Having himself no particular opinions or tastes he relied upon whatever conformed with those of his companion. He was as ready to drink tea at Fortnum's as beer at the Prospect of Whitby; he would listen to military music in St. J.. | intrigue spying | John le Carré | |
| e20d740 | Dash it all, she's an actress! Don't take her so seriously. Actors don't have opinions, my dear chap, still less do actresses. They have moods. Fads. Poses. Twenty-four-hour passions. There's a lot wrong with the world, dammit. Actors are absolute suckers for dramatic solutions. For all I know, by the time you get her out there, she'll be Born Again! | John le Carré | ||
| 6653990 | Lo racconto in maniera semplice ma precisa, come un buon soldato rievoca una battaglia, non piu col sapore della vittoria o della sconfitta ma unicamente con l'emozione del ricordo. | John le Carré | ||
| 7e478ba | He has a saying: he'll only believe what can be written on a postcard. | John le Carré | ||
| 127cfe3 | CIA Interrogator: Have you ever met any jazz musicians you would describe, or who would describe themselves, as anarchists? Bartholomew 'Barley' Scott Blair: Hmmm... ah, there was a trombone player, Wilfred Baker. Bartholomew 'Barley' Scott Blair: He's the only jazz musician I can think of who is completely devoid of anarchist tendencies. | John le Carré | ||
| 814bda2 | Steam was rising weirdly from his clothes. His hangover was visible. It heaved itself to his shoulders and sat there like a bag of wet cement. | Markus Zusak | ||
| b3d6634 | In the written words of the book thief herself, the journey continued like everything had happened. | Markus Zusak | ||
| ac15b3c | On Munich Street, Rudy noticed Deutscher walking along the footpath with some friends and felt the need to throw a rock at him. You might as well ask just what the hell he was thinking. The answer is probably nothing at all. He'd probably say that he was exercising his God-given right to stupidity. | Markus Zusak | ||
| a12a6fb | He was tall and abrupt and exactly the kind of guy you wanted to be walking the streets with. | Markus Zusak | ||
| b4bbb9a | The consequence of this is that I'm always finding humans at their best and worst. I see their ugly and their beauty, and I wonder how the same thing can be both. Still, they have one thing I envy. Humans, if nothing else, have the good sense to die. | Markus Zusak | ||
| 832e461 | He's waking her in every moment. Disturbing her. Reaching through her and abandoning her at the same time. He throws her down and takes her and cuts her open. The bedspring leaks - a howling, desperate noise of falling down and springing up, even though they don't want to. Refusal is pointless. Complaint has no use. Some crying crawls to the doorway where I stand. It hobbles out from the gap in the door and lands at my feet | Markus Zusak | ||
| fe3a3c4 | You're a dead man". I hear his voice again, and I see the words on my face when I get back in the cab and look in the rearview mirror. It makes me think of my life, my nonexistent accomplishments and my overall abilities in incompetence. "A dead man", I think. He's not far wrong." | sadness loser | Markus Zusak | |
| 1585446 | A couple of them were school beauty-queen pretty while a few were that more real-looking type. A realer kind of pretty. | beauty-queens real pretty | Markus Zusak | |
| e1cdd96 | It could be worse. I could be you. | positive-thinking horrible-life you worse | Markus Zusak | |
| e0db549 | The Proclaimers thunder through my head. Imagine it. Imagine killing someone to the tune of two Scottish nerds wearing glasses and flattop haircuts. How will I ever listen to that song again? What will I do if it comes on the radio? I'll think of the night I murdered another man and stole his life with my own hands. | murder the-proclaimers | Markus Zusak | |
| 7bd6ddf | I told her I loved the howling sound of her harmonica. That seemed to be the limit of my courage that night, and even those spoken words had to struggle their way out of my mouth. It's all very well for words to build bridges, but sometimes I think it's a matter of knowing when to do it. Knowing when the time's right. | struggle courage knowing-when-the-time-is-right spoken-words limit mouth | Markus Zusak | |
| 64ccc24 | Right. That's twenty-two fifty." "Twenty-two fifty?" We can't hide our exasperation. "Well, yeah - this is a classy joint, you know." "That's obvious - the service is incredible." | sarcasm | Markus Zusak | |
| c5f4ecd | The thing is, I don't even hate cops. To tell you the truth, I actually feel a little sorry for them. | hate feel-sorry | Markus Zusak | |
| 4bd1fd4 | Mi unica preocupacion es que cada vez que he deseado que algo suceda de una manera, ocurre del modo contrario, como si todo estuviera perfectamente disenado para enfrentarme a lo desconocido. | Markus Zusak | ||
| e73e62f | He walked from one end of the basement to the other, the lamplight magnifying his shadow. It turned him into a giant on the wall, walking back and forth. When he stopped pacing, his shadow loomed behind him, watching. Someone was always watching. | Markus Zusak | ||
| 0fd1a50 | Tambien me temo que nada finaliza realmente cuando llega el fin. Los recuerdos permanecen mientras son capaces de blandir su espada y encontrar un punto blando en la mente para hacer un tajo y penetrar en ella. | Markus Zusak | ||
| ccd2708 | There are skies manufactured by people, punctured and leaking,and there are soft,coal-colored clouds, beating like black hearts | Markus Zusak | ||
| a44cc0b | The sky was murky and deep, like quicksand. There was a young man parcelled up in barbed wire, like a crown of thorns. I untangled him and carried him out. High above the earth, we sank together, to our knees. It was just another day, 1918. | Markus Zusak | ||
| 850fc12 | the city around us seemed colder than ever again, and I realised that even if it really had sensed something going on, it certainly didn't care. It moved forward again. I could feel it. I could almost hear it laugh and taste it. Close. Watching. Mocking. And it was cold, so cold, as it watched my sister bleeding at the back of our house. | close sensed mocking watching cold | Markus Zusak | |
| ccd41c1 | What good are the words? | Markus Zusak | ||
| c4179a6 | Very quickly, very suddenly, words fell through my mind. They landed on the floor of my thoughts, an in there, down there, I started to pick the words up. They were excerpts of truth gathered from inside me. Even in the night, in bed, they woke me. They painted themselves onto the ceiling. They burned themselves onto the sheets of memory laid out in my mind. When I woke up the next day, I wrote the words down , on a torn-up piece of paper... | words writing | Markus Zusak | |
| e0b9521 | Liesel observed the strangeness of her foster father's eyes. They were made of kindness, and silver. Like soft silver, melting. Liesel, upon seeing those eyes, understood that Hans Hubermann was worth a lot. | Markus Zusak | ||
| 09709f1 | A veces me mata ver como muere la gente. | Markus Zusak | ||
| 4cc6ed2 | One good punch from Rube on me would send the sky into my head and the clouds into my lungs. I just always tried to stay up. | standing fighting victory | Markus Zusak | |
| d8c793c | I have hated the words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right. - Liesel Meminger | Markus Zusak | ||
| 58af316 | Would I always feel so small that it hurt and that even the greatest outcry roaring from my throat was, in reality, just a whimper? Would my footsteps always stop so suddenly and sink into the footpath? | unheard small fears | Markus Zusak | |
| ae26d2d | Los minutos eran crueles. Las horas mortificantes. Durante los momentos de desvelo, sobre el pendia inexorablemente la mano del tiempo, la cual no dudaba en estrujarlo. Le sonreia, lo retorcia y lo dejaba vivir. Que gran maldad puede encubrir la prolongacion de una vida. | Markus Zusak | ||
| 346e013 | The Charcoal Sky Sometimes you go to the wrong place, but the right way comes and finds you. It might make you trip over it or speak to it. Or it might come to you when a day is stripped apart by night and ask you to take its hand and forget this wrong place, this illusion where you stand. I think of this mess in my mind and the girl who walked through it to stand before me and let her voice come close. I remember brick walls. There are mom.. | Markus Zusak | ||
| 2778ce7 | Me, I'm known for bruises and levelheadedness, for height and muscle and blasphemy, and the occasional sentimentality. | Markus Zusak | ||
| e892291 | She gathered the books like clouds and words poured down like rain. | rain clouds | Markus Zusak | |
| aee1b72 | I was always reading books when I should have been doing math and the rest of it. | reading math | Markus Zusak | |
| 52fe755 | Did you learn?" The face in the corner watched the flames. "I did." There was a considerable pause. "Until I was nine. At that age, my mother sold the music studio and stopped teaching. SHe kept only the one instrument but gave up on me not long after I resisted the learning. I was foolish." "No," Papa said. "You were a boy." | Markus Zusak | ||
| 4f35bdc | I guess humans like to watch a little destruction. Sand castles, houses of cards, that's where they begin. Their great skill is their capacity to escalate. | Markus Zusak | ||
| 1f971c0 | For a long time, she sat and saw. She had seen her brother die with one eye open, on still in a dream. She had said goodbye to her mother and imagined her lonely wait for a train back home to oblivion. A woman of wire had laid herself down, her scream traveling the street, till it fell sideways like a rolling coin starved of momentum. A young man was hung by a rope made of Stalingrad snow. She had watched a bomber pilot die in a metal case... | words memories death good-bye hitler | Markus Zusak |