Sometimes she would whisper the word Mama and see her mother’s face a hundred times in a single afternoon.
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. Clearly,
She was the book thief without the words.Trust me, though, the words were on their way, and when they arrived, Liesel would hold them in her hands like the clouds, and she would wring them out like th...
She was suddenly aware of how empty her feet felt inside her shoes.
She possessed the unique ability to aggravate almost anyone she ever met.
She places her hands around my neck and rests her head on my shoulder. I can smell the sex on her, and my hope is that she can smell the love on me.
She didn't see him watching as he played, having no idea that Hans Hubermann's accordion was a story. In the times ahead, that story would arrive at 33 Himmel Street in the early hours of morning, wea...
Rudy was interested, and confused. The moon was undone now, free to move and rise and fall and drip on the boy’s face, making him nice and murky, like his thoughts.
Qué hijos de puta, pensó. Qué adorables hijos de puta. No me hagan feliz. Por favor, no me calmen y me dejen creer que algo bueno puede salir de todo esto. ¿No ven los moretones? ¿No ven esa raspadura...
Quietly, he walked towards it with the matchbox in one hand, the candle in the other.
Quando dici una bugia, dopo devi essere coerente. Lo sanno tutti.
Puedo oler el sexo en ella, y solo deseo que ella pueda oler el amor en mí.
People die of broken hearts. They have heart attacks. And it's the heart that hurts most when things go wrong and fall apart.
One thing I’ve noticed about the Germans: They seem very fond of pigs.
One sat painfully now, among the falling chunks of rain, and the other stood next to her, waiting. Why did he have to die? she asked, but still, Rudy did nothing; he said nothing. When finally she fin...
Of course you're real-like any thought or any story. It's real when you're in it.
Några år senare skulle han bli en som gav bort bröd, inte stal det - ytterligare bevis på hur motsägelsefull människan är. En nypa godhet. En nypa ondska. Tillsätt vatten och rör om.
Non è questo posto, penso. Sono le persone.Saremmo stati gli stessi anche altrove. Ovunque.
No, thought Liesel as she walked. It’s my heart that is tired. A thirteen-year-old heart shouldn’t feel like this.
My voice is like a rumour. I'm not sure if it came out or not, or if it is true.