It's pathetic how a man can stand by and do nothing as a whole nation cleans out the garbage and makes itself great-Hans Junior
Un om nu are inimă ca a mea. Inima omenească este o linie, în timp ce a mea este un cerc și posed abilitatea infinită de a fi la locul potrivit în momentul potrivit. Consecințele acestui lucru sunt că...
My own eyes try to sleep, but they don't. They stay wide awake as time snarls forward and silence drops down, like measured thought.
She had her whole death ahead of her
Hair the color of lemons,' Rudy read. His fingers touched the words. You told him about me?At first, Liesel could not talk. Perhaps it was the sudden bumpiness of love she felt for him. Or had she alw...
You should know it yourself- a young man is still a boy, and a boy sometimes has the right to be stubborn.
There were heavy beams - planks of sun - falling randomly, wonderfully, onto the road. Clouds arched their backs to lok behind as they started again to move on. 'It's such a beautiful day,' he said, a...
I see their ugly and their beauty, and wonder how the same thing can be both.
It could be worse. I could be you.
Best friends one, and now we have almost nothing to say to each other. It was interesting, how he had joined those guys and I just stayed on my own. I didn't like it or dislike it. It was just funny t...
Pfiffikus, whose vulgarity made Rosa Hubermann look like a wordsmith and a saint.
Make no mistake, the woman had a heart. She had a bigger one that people would think. There was a lot in it, stored up, high in miles of hidden shelving. Remember that she was the woman with the instr...
The city buildings in the distance are holding up the sky, it seems.
Sitting in the water, she imagined the smell of it, mapped out on her papa's clothes. More than anything, it was the smell of friendship, and she could find it on herself, too. Liesel loved that smell...
I collect my thoughts as if they will stain me, murder me, and then resurrect me.Markus Zusak,
The paper landed on the table, but the news was stapled to his chest. A tattoo.
He was the second snowman to be melting away before her eyes, only this one was different. It was a paradox. The colder he became, the more he melted.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Papa's hands tightened on the splintery wood. I'm an idiot.No, Papa.You're just a man.
The suffering faces of depleted men and women reached across to them, pleading not so much for help – they were beyond that – but for an explanation. Just something to subdue this confusion.
Not a beauty queen. Not one of those. You know the ones. She was real.
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