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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| 667a837 | Is she happy? For portions of every day, she is happy. When she's standing beneath a tree, for instance, listening to the leaves vibrating in the wind, or when she opens a package from a collector and that old ocean odor of shells comes washing out. | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 94f0104 | Every hour, she thinks, someone for whom the war was memory falls out of the world. We rise again in the gross. In the flowers. In songs. | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 0eaab92 | It is nothing, Marie-Laure. Come now." Marie-Laure backs out. Below her, her great-uncle whispers nursery rhymes to himself. "I can sit with him for a bit, Madame. Maybe we could read some more of our" | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 3857291 | Radio: it ties a million ears to a single mouth. Out of loudspeakers all around Zollverein, the staccato voice of the Reich grows like some imperturbable tree; its subjects lean toward its branches as if toward the lips of God. | Anthony Doerr | ||
| ba343cc | Late-night shortwave: province of ramblers and dreamers, madmen and ranters. | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 7266349 | The) Gray wagtail...doesn't look like much, does he? Hardly a couple of ounces of feathers and bones. But that bird can fly to Africa and back. Powered by bugs and worms and desire. | Anthony Doerr | ||
| d5c7270 | He is a man who understands the power of the German soil, who feels its dark prehistoric vigor thudding in his very cells. | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 375b710 | Silence is the fruit of occupation. | Anthony Doerr | ||
| f11ae8d | bravest. Who will lie on her back and let her last breath curl up | Anthony Doerr | ||
| e0776c5 | Earth is all magma and continental crust and ocean. Gravity and time. Stones are just stones and rain is just rain and misfortune is just bad luck. | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 9bb7afb | To really touch something, she is learning--the bark of a sycamore tree in the gardens; a pinned stag beetle in the Department of Entomology; the exquisitely polished interior of a scallop shell in Dr. Geffard's workshop--is to love it. At | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 4a73d76 | Maybe the Sea of Flames never existed at all, maybe curses aren't real, maybe her father is right: Earth is all magma and continental crust and ocean. Gravity and time. Stones are just stones and rain is just rain and misfortune is just bad | Anthony Doerr | ||
| f84ab9e | Don't tell lies. Lie to yourself, Werner, but don't lie to me. | Anthony Doerr | ||
| f1b4adf | Vstaiushchee solntse prozhigaet dyrochku v gorizonte. | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 43a5555 | Foucault's pendulum would | Anthony Doerr | ||
| d9b334d | Marie-Laure from Jules Verne: Science, my lad, is made up of mistakes, but they are mistakes which it is useful to make, because they lead little by | Anthony Doerr | ||
| a8e8c90 | the network of trenches and artillery below shows itself very clearly for a moment, and Werner feels he is gazing down into the circuitry of an enormous radio, each soldier down there an electron flowing single file down his own electrical path, with no more say in the matter than an electron has. | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 00b24df | turning scarlet in her mind, | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 1239433 | from Volkheimer to Werner. | Anthony Doerr | ||
| af36066 | prismatic | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 961e4e0 | When I lost my sight, Werner, people said I was brave. When my father left, people said I was brave. But it is no bravery; I have no choice. I wake up and live my life. Don't you do the same? | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 2b5c8d7 | too cold even to snow--that winter presents a strange and haunted season during which Werner prowls the static like he used to prowl the alleys with Jutta, pulling her in the wagon through the colonies of Zollverein. A voice materializes out of the distortion in his headphones, then fades, and he goes ferreting after it. There, thinks Werner when he finds it again, there: a feeling like shutting your eyes and feeling your way down a mile-lo.. | Anthony Doerr | ||
| b86cf2a | He says, "You are very brave." She lowers the bucket. "What is your name?" He tells her. She says, "When I lost my sight, Werner, people said I was brave. When my father left, people said I was brave. But it is not bravery; I have no choice. I wake up and live my life. Don't you do the same?" | Anthony Doerr | ||
| c4e1eb4 | Maybe his body is giving up. If he does not eat, he understands, he will die. But when he does eat, he fells as if he will die. | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 1487db3 | Then the short man disappears through the huge doors. Minutes later, the aide-de-camp flings open the shutters of an upstairs window and gazes a moment across the rooftops before unfurling a crimson flag over the brick and securing its eyelets to the sill. | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 5d164f4 | Everyone should behave as if he carries the real thing. | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 58088a1 | We are a volley of bullets, we are cannonballs. | Anthony Doerr | ||
| eb95926 | A second technician gauges Werner's eye color against a chromatic scale on which sixty or so shades of blue are displayed. Werner's color is himmelblau, sky blue. To assess his hair color, the man snips a lock of hair from Werner's head and compares it to thirty or so other locks clipped to a board, arrayed darkest to lightest. "Schnee," the man mutters, and makes a notation. Snow. Werner's hair is lighter than the lightest color on the boa.. | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 40c8482 | weapons, an eccentric's beekeeping equipment. Then a wine cellar. Then a handyman's nook. Atelier de | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 4750a97 | byzantine complication: Mondays are for mechanics, | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 853ba8b | Werner feels he is gazing down into the circuitry of an enormous radio, each soldier down there an electron flowing single file down his own electrical path, with no more say in the matter than an electron has. | Anthony Doerr | ||
| c4f5487 | Numbers R | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 354840c | one with a rifle and the other wearing headphones. | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 125bd3c | Gone or resolved to go; is there much difference? | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 509a6b8 | push back the hood of grief... | Anthony Doerr | ||
| c86a50e | Time is] a glowing puddle you carry in your hands; you should spend all your energy protecting it. Fighting for it. Working hard not to spill one single drop. | Anthony Doerr | ||
| afbc742 | father shoves things into what | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 9c9c357 | An onion-breathed technician in a lab coat measures the distance between Werner's temples, the circumference of his head, and the thickness and shape of his lips. Calipers are used to evaluate his feet, the length of his fingers, and the distance between his eyes and his navel. They measure his penis. The angle of his nose is quantified with a wooden protractor. | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 74d4b7a | Each time Marie-Laure relays another rumor to her father, he repeats "Germany" with a question mark after it, as if saying it for the very first time. He says the takeover of Austria is nothing to worry about. He says everyone remembers the last war, and no one is mad enough to go through that again." | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 9a8ceda | Snowy, milky, chalky. A color that is the absence of color. Every morning he ties his shoes, packs newspaper inside his coat as insulation against the cold, and begins interrogating the world. | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 6ae43bf | isn't life a kind of corruption? A child is born, and the world sets in upon it. Taking things from it, stuffing things into it. Each bite of food, each particle of light entering the eye--the body can never be pure. | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 8e3fca5 | Timber splinters, as though the rubble teeters on some final fulcrum. As though a single dragonfly could alight on it and trigger an avalanche that will bury them for good. Werner | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 7e13aef | A line comes back to Marie-Laure from Jules Verne: Science, my lad, is made up of mistakes, but they are mistakes which it is useful to make, because they lead little by little to the truth. Etienne | Anthony Doerr | ||
| 2e1c613 | We weep for characters, and then we go brush our teeth and have to face the fact that the world is warming at such a rapid pace that a terrifying number of amphibians are vanishing every month. And so through plays, through soccer games, through novels, through movies, through video games, through political elections - through story - we rehearse feelings we might eventually need in our own lives. ... Through drama, in the moments of greate.. | Christopher Beha |