As winter set in, she was no longer a victim of Sister Maria’s frustrations, preferring to watch as others were marched out to the corridor and given their just rewards. The sound of another student s...
It's funny, don't you think, how time seems to do a lot of things? It flies, it tells, and worst of all, it runs out.
Liesel observed the strangeness of her foster father's eyes. They were made of kindness, and silver.
You should give it to Max, Liesel. See if you can leave it on the bedside table, like all the other things. Liesel watched him as if he'd gone insane. How, though? Lightly, he tapped her skull with hi...
I’ve seen so many young men over the years who think they’re running at other young men. They are not. They’re running at me.
I have hated the words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right.
Why can’t the world hear? I ask myself. Within a few moments I ask it many times. Because it doesn’t care, I finally answer, and I know I’m right. It’s like I’ve been chosen. But chosen for what? I as...
How do you tell if something’s alive?You check for breathing.
Jesus, Mary and Joseph
The book thief has struck for the first time – the beginning of an illustrious career.
Sometimes you go to the wrong place, but the right way comes and finds you.
You are going to die. I am in all truthfulness attempting to be cheerful about this whole topic, though most people find themselves hindered in believing me, no matter
Usually it was like spillage- cold and heavy, slippery and gray- but once in a while some stars had the nerve to rise and float, if only for a few minutes.
Mama’s eyes were like pale blue cutouts, pasted to her face.
Elle, la voleuse de livres dépourvue de mots. Mais croyez-moi, les mots allaient venir et, lorsqu’ils arriveraient, Liesel les prendrait dans sa main, comme les nuages, et elle en exprimerait la subst...
The scribbled signature black, onto the blinding global white, onto the thick soupy red.
So ein Typ war er. Ruben Wolf. Wenn er am Leben war, war er okay.
In years to come, he would be a giver of bread, not a stealer—proof again of the contradictory human being. So much good, so much evil. Just add water. Five
Of course, I'm being rude. I'm spoiling the ending, not only of the entire book, but of this particular piece of it. I have given you two events in advance, because I don't have much interest in build...
It amazes me what humans can do, even when streams are flowing down their faces and they stagger on, coughing and searching, and finding.
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