And they would all smile at the beauty of destruction. Markus Zusak More Quotes by Markus Zusak More Quotes From Markus Zusak Somewhere, far down, there was an itch in his heart, but he made it a point not to scratch it. He was afraid of what might come leaking out. Markus Zusak scratchesheartmight How does it feel, anyway?" How does what feel?" When you take one of those books?" At that moment, she chose to keep still. If he wants an answer, he'd have to come back, and he did. "Well?" he asked, but again, it was the boy who replied, before Liesel could even open her mouth. It feels good, doesn't it? To steal something back. Markus Zusak feel-goodboysbook A DEFINITION NOT FOUND IN THE DICTIONARY Not leaving: an act of trust and love, often deciphered by children Markus Zusak leavinglovechildren You cannot be afraid, Read the book. Smile at it. It's a great book-the greatest book you've ever read. Markus Zusak greatest-bookgreat-bookbook It would then be brought abruptly to an end, for the brightness had shown suffering the way. Markus Zusak brightnesssufferingway 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. Markus Zusak winningrunningyears A small but noteworthy note. I've seen so many young men over the years who think they're running at other young men. They are not. They are running at me. Markus Zusak runningmenthinking At first, all is black and white. Black on white. That's where I'm walking, through pages. These pages. Sometimes it gets so that I have one foot in the pages and the words, and the other in what they speak of. Markus Zusak black-and-whitepagesfeet Grimly, she realized that clocks don't make a sound that even remotely resembles ticking, tocking. It was more the sound of a hammer, upside down, hacking methodically at the earth. It was the sound of a grave. Markus Zusak hammersearthsound Clearly, I see it. I was just about to leave when I found her kneeling there. A mountain range of rubble was written, designed, erected around her. She was clucthing at a book. Markus Zusak kneelingmountain-rangesbook The book thief has struck for the first time – the beginning of an illustrious career. Markus Zusak thievescareersbook But then, is there cowardice in the acknowledgment of fear? Is there cowardice in being glad that you lived? Markus Zusak acknowledgmentcowardiceglad She was like a lone angel floating above the surface of the earth, laughing with delight because she could fly but crying out of loneliness. Markus Zusak angellonelinesslaughing Liesel's blood had dried inside of her. It crumbled. She almost broke into pieces on the steps. Markus Zusak lieselpiecesblood My arms are killing me. I didn't know words could be so heavy. Markus Zusak heavyarmskilling Please believe me when I tell you that I picked up each soul 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 and freed them from their fear. Markus Zusak visionsoulbelieve She leaned down and looked at his lifeless face and Leisel kissed her best friend, Rudy Steiner, soft and true on his lips. He tasted dusty and sweet. He tasted like regret in the shadows of trees and in the glow of the anarchist's suit collection. She kissed him long and soft, and when she pulled herself away, she touched his mouth with her fingers...She did not say goodbye. She was incapable, and after a few more minutes at his side, she was able to tear herself from the ground. It amazes me what humans can do, even when streams are flowing down their faces and they stagger on. Markus Zusak sweetgoodbyelove 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. Markus Zusak house-of-cardsskillslittles A fighter can be a winner, but that doesn't make a winner a fighter. Markus Zusak winnerfighter He does something to me, that boy. Every time. It’s his only detriment. He steps on my heart. He makes me cry. Markus Zusak heartbreaksadnesslove
