Markus Zusak Quotes

I've wandered through the real world, and written myself through the darkness of the streets inside me. I see people walking through the city and wonder where they've been, and what the moments of the...

The city was dark except for the building lights that seemed to appear like sores - like bandaids had been ripped off to expose the city's skin.

Well, this is basically the end, so the answers should be in these next few pages. I doubt they will surprise you, but you never know. I don't know how smart or thick you are. You could be Albert Eins...

And you're Cameron Wolfe. That' gotta start meaning somethin' boy. That's gotta start churnin' inside us, making us wanna be someone for those names, and not just another couple of guys who amounted t...

I told her I loved the howling sound of her harmonica. That seemed to be the limit of my courage that night, and even those spoken words had to struggle their way out of my mouth. It's all very well f...

First the colors. Then the humans. That's usually how I see things. Or at least, how I try.

From Liesel's position, their voices were only sounds. Not words at all.

People observe the colors of a day at its beginnings and ends, but to me it's quiet clear that a day merges through a multitude of shades and intonations, with each passing moment.

I'm gonna hunt my life down and grab it.

Now I've changed things. I've left my own fingerprints on the world, no matter how small, and it's upset the equilibrium of us

The scrawled words of practice stood magnificently on the wall by the stairs, jagged and childlike and sweet. They looked on as both the hidden Jew and the girl slept, hand to shoulder. They breathed....

A young man was hung by a rope made of Stalingrad snow

From a Himmel Street window, he wrote, the stars set fire to my eyes.

I actually feel quite self-indulgent at the moment, telling you all about me, me, me.(...) On the other hand, you're a human -you should understand self obsession.

That’s when I have to ask him. Can you really talk like that? Being holy and all?What? Because I’m a priest? He finishes the dregs of his coffee. Sure. God knows what’s important.

She closes the door completely, and I crouch there. I allow myself to fall forward and rest my head on the door frame. My breath bleeds. My heartbeat drowns my ears.

I look through the old record collection my dad gave me. Stress relief. I shuffle through the albums feverishly and find what I'm looking for-the Proclaimers. I chuck it on and watch it spin. The ridi...

I don't really know that this story has a whole lot of things happen in it. It doesn't really. It's just a record of how things were in my life during this last winter. I guess things happened, but no...

Summer came.For the book thief, everything was going nicely.For me, the sky was the color of Jews.When their bodies had finished scouring for gaps in the door, their souls rose up. When their fingerna...

Papa sat with me tonight. He brought the accordion down and sat close to where Max used to sit. I often look at his fingers and face when he plays. the accordion breathes. There are lines on his cheek...