I'm not a writer who refuses to talk about a book until I've fini... by Markus Zusak

I'm not a writer who refuses to talk about a book until I've finished.

Markus Zusak

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Categorized in : Book Refuse Finished

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

dues brutes men

Better that we leave the paint behind," Hans told her, "than ever... by Markus Zusak

Better that we leave the paint behind," Hans told her, "than ever forget the music.

behinds paint forget

When I recollect her, I see a long list of colors, but it's the three in which I saw her in the flesh that resonate the most. Sometimes I manage to float far above those three moments. I hang suspended, until a septic truth bleeds toward clarity. That's when I see them formulate: THE COLORS RED: [rectangle] WHITE: [circle] BLACK: [swastika] They fall on top of each other. The scribbled signature black, onto the blinding global white, onto the thick soupy red.

circles color fall

A small fact: You are going to die....does this worry you? by Markus Zusak

A small fact: You are going to die....does this worry you?

doe worry facts

Summer came. For the books thief, everything was going nicely. For me, the sky was the color of Jews.

color summer book

So many humans. So many colors. by Markus Zusak

So many humans. So many colors.

color humans

Five hundred souls. I carried them in my fingers, like suitcases. Or I'd throw them over my shoulder. It was only the the children I carried in my arms.

arms soul children

Two weeks to change the world, fourteen days to destroy it. by Markus Zusak

Two weeks to change the world, fourteen days to destroy it.

week two world

He was waving. "Saukerl," she laughed, and as she held up her hand, she knew completely that he was simultaneously calling her a Saumensch. I think that's as close to love as eleven-year-olds can get.

hands years thinking

Possibly the only good to come out of these nightmares was that it brought Hans Hubermann, her new papa, into the room, to soothe her, to love her. He came every night and sat with her. The first couple of times, he simply stayed - a stranger to kill the aloneness. A few nights after that, he whispered, "Shhh, I'm here, it's all right." After three weeks he held her. Trust was accumulated quickly, due primarily to the brute strength of the man's gentleness, his thereness. The girl knew from the outset that Hans Hubermann would always appear midscream, and he would not leave. (36)

girl couple night

...to swear with a ferocity that can only be described as a talen... by Markus Zusak

...to swear with a ferocity that can only be described as a talent.

ferocity swear talent

..As always, she was carrying the washing. Rudy was carrying two buckets of cold water, or as he put it, two buckets of future ice.

ice water two

She tore a page from the book and ripped it in half. Then a chapter. Soon, there was nothing but scraps of words littered between her legs and all around her. The words. Why did they have to exist? Without them, there wouldn't be any of this. Without words, the Führer was nothing. There would be no limping prisoners, no need for consolation or wordly tricks to make us feel better. What good were the words? She said it audibly now, to the orange-lit room. "What good are the words?

orange feel-better book

You want to know what I truly look like? I'll help you out. Find... by Markus Zusak

You want to know what I truly look like? I'll help you out. Find yourself a mirror while I continue.

finding-yourself mirrors looks

The nightmares arrived like they always did, much like the best player in the opposition when you've heard rumors that he might be injured or sick-but there he is, warming up with the rest of them, ready to take the field.

rumor sick player

… it was raining on Himmel Street when the world ended for Liesel Meminger. The sky was dripping. Like a tap that a child has tried its hardest to turn off but hasn’t quite managed.

rain sky children

It felt as though the whole globe was dressed in snow. Like it has pulled it on, the way you pull on a sweater. Next to the train line, footprints were sunken to their shins. Trees wore blankets of ice. As you may expect, someone has died.

sweaters ice snow

I think she ate a salad and some soup. And loneliness. She ate th... by Markus Zusak

I think she ate a salad and some soup. And loneliness. She ate that, too.

soup loneliness thinking

Finally, in October 1945, a man with swampy eyes, feathers of hair, and a clean-shaven face walked into the shop. He approached the counter. "Is there someone here by the name of Leisel Meminger?" "Yes, she's in the back," said Alex. He was hopeful, but he wanted to be sure. "May I ask who is calling on her?" Leisel came out. They hugged and cried and fell to the floor.

eye hair men

There was also a rumor that later in the day, she walked fully clothed into the Amper River and said something very strange. Something about a kiss. Something about a Saumensch. How many times did she have to say goodbye?

kissing rivers goodbye