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.

Markus Zusak

Image Embed Code

Categorized in : Looks Mirrors Finding Yourself

People observe the colors of a day only at its beginnings and ends, but to me it's quite clear that a day merges through a multitude of shades and intonations with each passing moment. A single hour can consist of thousands of different colors. Waxy yellows, cloud-spot blues. Murky darkness. In my line of work, I make it a point to notice them.

passing-moments color clouds

I carried Rudy softly through the broken street...with him I tried a little harder at comforting. I watched the contents of his soul for a moment and saw a black-painted boy calling the name Jesse Owens as he ran through an imaginary tape. I saw him hip-deep in some icy water, chasing a book, and I saw a boy lying in bed, imagining how a kiss would taste from his glorious next-door neighbor. He does something to me, that boy. Every time. It's his only detriment. He steps on my heart. He makes me cry.

heart book lying

After perhaps thirty meters, just as a soldier turned around, the girl was felled. Hands were clamped upon her from behind and the boy next door brought her down. He forced her knees to the road and suffered the penalty. He collected her punches as if they were presents. Her bony hands and elbows were accepted with nothing but a few short moans. He accumulated the loud, clumsy specks of saliva and tears as if they were lovely to his face, and more important, he was able to hold her down.

girl doors boys

...they watched the humans disappear. They watched them dissolve, like moving tablets in the humid air.

tablets air moving

But neither of us knows, because a fight's worth nothing if you know from the start that you're going to win it.

fighting knows winning

Son, you can't go around painting yourself black, you hear?" "Why not, Papa?" "Because they'll take you away." "Why?" "Because you shouldn't want to be like black people or Jewish people or anyone who is...not us." "Who are Jewish people?" "You know my oldest customer, Mr. Kaufmann? Where we bought your shoes?" "Yes." "Well, he's Jewish." "I didn't know that. Do you have to pay to be Jewish? Do you need a license?" ..... "...you've got beautiful blond hair and big safe blue eyes. You should be happy with that; is that clear?

eye beautiful son

Liesel observed the strangeness of her foster father's eyes. They... by Markus Zusak

Liesel observed the strangeness of her foster father's eyes. They were made of kindness, and silver.

eye kindness father

One wild card was yet to be played. by Markus Zusak

One wild card was yet to be played.

cards

Our footsteps run, and I don't want them to end. I want to run and laugh and feel like this forever. I want to avoid any awkward moment when the realness of reality sticks its fork into our flesh, leaving us standing there, together. I want to stay here, in this moment, and never go to other places, where we don't know what to say or what to do.

running laughing reality

She was a girl with a mountain to climb. by Markus Zusak

She was a girl with a mountain to climb.

climbs mountain girl

Rudy Steiner was scared of the book theif's kiss. He must have longed for it so much. 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.

lips kissing book

The song was born on her breathe and died at her lips. by Markus Zusak

The song was born on her breathe and died at her lips.

lips breathe song

I realize that nothing belongs to her anymore and she belongs to... by Markus Zusak

I realize that nothing belongs to her anymore and she belongs to everything.

realizing

Death waits for no man - and if he does, he doesn't usually wait... by Markus Zusak

Death waits for no man - and if he does, he doesn't usually wait for very long.

waiting men long

One day, Liesel.' he said, 'you'll be dying to kiss me. by Markus Zusak

One day, Liesel.' he said, 'you'll be dying to kiss me.

kissing one-day dying

Oh, come on, Arthur." "I don't want to hear it, Andy." "Jesus Christ" "He doesn't want to hear it, either.

want jesus christ

Clearly," said Arthur,"you're an idiot- but you're our kind of id... by Markus Zusak

Clearly," said Arthur,"you're an idiot- but you're our kind of idiot. Come on.

arthur idiot kind

God. by Markus Zusak

God.

names jobs thinking

It’s the leftover humans. The survivors. They’re the ones I can’t stand to look at, although on many occasions 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 surprises. They have punctured hearts. They have beaten lungs. Which in turn brings me to the subject I am telling you about tonight, or today, or whatever the hour and color. It’s the story of one of those perpetual survivors –an expert at being left behind.

jigsaw-puzzles color heart

I just know that right now, we want to be proud. For once. We want to take the struggle and rise above it. We want to frame it, live it, survive it. We want to put it in our mouths and taste it and never forget it, because it makes us strong.

strong struggle mouths