Tenía lo que llamaba un pequeño surtido de herramientas:Un libro pintado.Un puñado de lápices.Una cabeza llena de ideas.Como si fueran piezas de un puzzle, empezó a encajarlas.
Snowflakes of ash fell so lovelily you were tempted to stretch out your tongue to catch them, taste them. Only, they would have scorched your lips. They would have cooked your mouth.
Smile with instinct, then lick your wounds in the darkest of dark corners. Trace the scars back to your own fingers and remember them.
Silence was not quiet or calm, and it was not peace.
She was holding desperately on to the words that had saved her life.
She leaned down and looked at his lifeless face and Leisel kissed her best friend, Rudy Steiner, soft and true on his lips. He tasted dusty and sweet. He tasted like regret in the shadows of trees and...
Rosa Hubermann was sitting on the edge of the bed with her husband's accordion tied to her chest. Her fingers hovered above the keys. She did not move. She didn't ever appear to be breathing.
Raskolnikov once said: When reason fails, the devil helps!
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, lea...
On quite a few occasions Liesel forgot about her mother and any other problem of which she currently held ownership.
On Munich Street, Rudy noticed Deutscher walking along the footpath with some friends and felt the need to throw a rock at him. You might as well ask just what the hell he was thinking. The answer is...
No puedes quedarte ahí sentado esperando que el nuevo mundo se adapte a ti, eres tú el que tiene que adaptarse....
No one else could carry close to forty-five thousand people in such a short amount of time. Not in a million human years.
It’s much easier, she realized, to be on the verge of something than to actually be it.
It'll be dark soon, Rudy.'He walked on. 'So what?''I'm going back.'Rudy stopped and watched her now as if she were betraying him. 'That's right, book thief. Leave me now. I bet if there was a lousy bo...
It felt as though the whole globe was dressed in snow. Like it had pulled it on, the way you pull on a sweater.
In the darkness of my dark-beating heart, I know. He’d have loved it, all right. You see? Even death has a heart.
If they killed him tonight, at least he would die alive.
If I ever leave this place-I'll make sure I'm better HERE first.
I wanted to ask her how the same thing could be so ugly and so glorious, and its words and stories so damning and brilliant.