Cuando empezó a escribir su historia, se preguntó por el momento exacto en que los libros y las palabras no sólo comenzaban a tener algún significado, sino que lo significaban todo.
But for now, happiness throws stones.It guards itself.I wait.
Better that we leave the paint behind, Hans told her, than ever forget the music.
As weeks edge past us, he fights and wins and he doesn't bother shaving. He turns up and wins. Turns up and wins. He only smiles when *I* fight well.
A GUIDED TOUR OF SUFFERING: To your left, perhaps your right, perhaps even straight ahead, you find a small black room. In it sits a Jew. He is scum. He is starving. He is afraid. Please - try not to...
A DEFINITION NOT FOUNDIN THE DICTIONARYNot leaving: an act of trust and love,often deciphered by children
None of them had it. They had no qualms about stealing, but they needed to be told. They liked to be told, and Viktor Chemmel liked to be the teller. It was a nice microcosm.
A KEY WORD*** Imagined
She would later write in the basement.
...there would be punishment and pain, and there would be happiness, too. That was writing.
¿No veis la herida que tengo dentro? ¿No veis cómo se extiende y me corroe ante vuestros ojos? No quiero volver a tener esperanzas.
«LA LADRONA DE LIBROS» ÚLTIMA LÍNEA «He odiado las palabras y las he amado, y espero haber estado a su altura.»
Walk into the living room (which doubled as the Hubermanns’ bedroom), pull the accordion
The table. That Saukerl, that filthy pig—you call him Papa, verstehst? Understand?
Sometimes I think that maybe we’re not really people at all. Maybe moments are what we are. Moments of weakness, of strength. Moments of rescue, of everything.
Seen her.
Kissing one of the new blokes who works there. He’s
Him. Don’t think. Just swallow. As soon as Mama handed
Having conquered not only the work at hand, but the
Caughtoutedness.