Markus Zusak Quotes

The tears grappled with her face. Rudy, please, wake up, Goddamn it, wale up, I love you. Come on, Rudy, come on, Jesse Owens, don't you know I love you, wake up, wake up, wake up..But nothing cared.....

The word communist + a large bonfire + a collection of dead letters + the suffering of her mother + the death of her brother = the Führer

The word maybe was beginning to annoy me, because the only thing that was fixed was that maybe would be with me for ever. Maybe

The words are spat through the phone line. They’re loud and wet in my ear. Y’ big dickhead. She’s lovely, isn’t she?

The words were on their way, and when they arrived, she would hold them in her hands like the clouds, and she would wring them out like the rain.

The words. Why did they have to exist? Without them, there wouldn’t be any of this. Without words, the Führer was nothing. There would be no limping prisoners, no need for consolation or wordly tricks...

There is death.Making his way through all of it.On the surface: unflappable, unwavering.Below: unnerved, untied, and undone.

There was also an acknowledgment that there was great beauty in what she was currently witnessing, and she chose not to disturb it.

There was an itchy lung for a last cigarette and an immense, magnetic pull toward the basement, for the girl who was his daughter and was writing a book down there he hoped to read one day. Liesel. Hi...

There was once a strange small man but there was a word shaker too.

There was once a strange, small man. But there was a world shaker, too.

There was once a strange, small man. He decided three important details about his life:1. He would part his hair from the opposite side to everyone else.2. He would make himself a small, strange musta...

There was rain like a ghost you could walk through. Almost dry when it hit the ground.

There were not many people who could say that their education had been paid for with cigarettes.

They say that war is death’s best friend, but I must offer you a different point of view on that one. To me, war is like the new boss who expects the impossible.

They were French, they were Jews, and they were you.

They were glued down, every last one of them. A packet of souls. Was it fate?Misfortune?Is that what glued them down like that?Of course not.Let's not be stupid.It probably had more to do with the hur...

This time, Mr. Steiner placed his hand on Rudy’s head and explained, I know, son—but you’ve got beautiful blond hair and big, safe blue eyes. You should be happywith that; is that clear?But nothing wa...

To me, war is like the new boss who expects the impossible. He stands over your shoulder repeating one thing, incessantly: Get it done, get it done. So you work harder. You get the job done. The boss,...

Un regard d'argent, empreint de bonté. D'argent en train de fondre. En le voyant, elle eut conscience de la valeur de Hans Huvermann