It takes a lot of love to hate you like this.
It was November 3 and the floor of the train held onto his feet
The sky was white but deteriorating fast. As always, it was becoming an enormous drop sheet. Blood was bleeding through, and in patches, the clouds were dirty, like footprints in melting snow.Footprin...
It was Russia, January 5, 1943, and just another icy day. Out among the city and snow, there were dead Russians and Germans everywhere. Those who remained were firing into the blank pages in front of...
The commitment had disappeared, and although he still watched the imagined glory of stealing, she could see now he was not believing. He was trying to believe it, and that’s never a good sign.
A SMALL PIECE OF TRUTH I do not carry a sickle or scythe. I only wear a hooded black robe when it’s cold. And I don’t have those skull-like facial features you seem to enjoy pinning on me from a dista...
¿Se puede robar la felicidad? ¿O es sólo otro infernal truco humano?
A SMALL PIECE OF TRUTHI do not carry a sickle or scythe.I only wear a hooded black robe when it's cold.And I don't have those skull-like facial features you seem to enjoy pinning on me from a distance...
I walk out into the foyer. It’s caked in sunshine.
The conversation of bullets.
The crowd was itself. There was no swaying it, squeezing through or reasoning with it. You breathed with it and you sang its songs. You waited for its fire.
Всъщност интригата е онова, което ме провокира, озадачава, интересува и изумява.
И защо?...Защото ти си олицетверение на посредствеността, Ед. Ако някой като теб може да се изправи и стори онова, което стори ти за всички тези хора, значи всеки го може. Може би всеки е способен да...
In truth, I think he was afraid. Rudy Steiner was scared of the book thief's kiss. He must have longed for it so much. He must have loved her so incredibly hard. So that he would never ask for her lip...
The song was born on her breathe and died at her lips.
Очите му бяха отворени, а годежният му пръстен - откраднат. Натоварих душата му заедно останалите и се понесохме. Хоризонтът беше с цвета на мляко. Студено и свежо. Разлято сред телата.
The sun stirs the earth. Around and around, it stirs us like stew.
Imagine smiling after a slap in the face. Then think of doing it twenty-four hours a day. That was the business of hiding a Jew.
Don’t get caught. This from a man who’d stolen a Jew. From
Yes, I'm often reminded of her, and in one of my array of pockets, I have kept her story to retell. It is one of the small legion I carry, each one extraordinary in its own right. Each one an attempt...
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