Markus Zusak

“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, wearing ruffled shoulders and a shivering jacket. It would carry a suitcase, a book, and two questions. A story. Story after story. Story within story. ”

“The orange flames waved at the crowd as paper and print dissolved inside them. Burning words were torn from their sentences. ”

“***A KEY WORD*** Imagined”

“The paper landed on the table, but the news was stapled to his chest. A tattoo.”

“It felt as though the whole globe was dressed in snow. Like it has pulled it on, the way you pull on a sweater. Next to the train line, footprints were sunken to their shins. Trees wore blankets of ice. As you may expect, someone has died.”

“***HERE IS A SMALL FACT*** You are going to die.”

“How do you tell if something's alive? You check for breathing.”

“***A SMALL THEORY***People observe the colors of a day only at its beginnings and its ends, but to me it's quite clear that a day merges through a multitude of shades and intonations, with each passing moment. A single hour can consist of thousands of different colors. Waxy yellows, cloud-spat blues. Murky darknesses. In my line of work, I make it a point to notice them. ”

“Death's Diary: 1942 -It was a year for the ages, like 79, like 1346, to just name a few. Forget the scythe, God damn it, I needed a broom or a mop. And I needed a holiday.(...) 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. 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 however, does not thank you. He asks for more.”

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

“The consequence of this is that I'm always finding humans at their best and worst. I see their ugly and their beauty, and I wonder how the same thing can be both. (Death)”

“Yes, the sky was now a devastating, home-cooked red. The small German town had been flung apart one more time. 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.”

“Liesel continued the examination. She moved around him and shrugged. "Not bad."Not bad!" I look better than just not bad."The shoes let you down. And your face."Rudy placed the lantern on the counter and came toward her in mock-anger, and Liesel had to admit that a nervousness started gripping her. It was with both relief and disappointment that she watched him trip and fall on the disgraced mannequin. On the floor, Rudy laughed.Then he closed his eyes, clenching them hard.Liesel rushed over.She crouched above him.Kis him, Liesel, kiss him.Are you all right, Rudy? Rudy?"I miss him," said the boy, sideways, across the floor.Frohe Weihnachten," Liesel replied. She helped him up, straightening the suit. "Merry Christmas.”

“I think she ate a salad and some soup.And loneliness.She ate that, too. ”

“Marv glaubt an so etwas, und ich weiss, dass ich das nicht geringschaetzen sollte. Es ist, wie es ist.”

“Can a person steal happiness? Or is just another internal, infernal human trick?”

“Humans have a talent for escalation.-Death”

“Finally, in October 1945, a man with swampy eyes, feathers of hair, and a clean-shaven face walked into the shop. He approached the counter. "Is there someone here by the name of Leisel Meminger?""Yes, she's in the back," said Alex. He was hopeful, but he wanted to be sure. "May I ask who is calling on her?"Leisel came out.They hugged and cried and fell to the floor.”

“There was also a rumor that later in the day, she walked fully clothed into the Amper River and said something very strange.Something about a kiss.Something about a Saumensch.How many times did she have to say goodbye?”

“I love and hate this place because it is full of words.”

“No matter how many times she was told that she was loved, there was no recognition that the proof was in the abandonment.”

“You can't eat books, sweetheart.”

“Of course, I'm being rude. I'm spoiling the ending, not only of the entire book, but of this particular piece of it. I have given you two events in advance, because I don't have much interest in building mystery. Mystery bores me. It chores me. I know what happens and so do you. It's the machinations that wheel us there that aggravate, perplex, interest, and astound me. There are many things to think of. There is much story.”

“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 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.”

“You’re a human, you should understand self-obsession.”

“He does something to me, that boy. Every time. It’s his only detriment. He steps on my heart. He makes me cry.”

“There were people everywhere on the city street, but the stranger could not have been more alone if it were empty.”

“He was skinny with soft hair, and his thick, murky eyes watched as the stranger played one more song in the heavy room. From face to face, he looked on as the man played and the woman wept. The different notes handled her eyes. Such sadness.”

“The impoverished always try to keep moving, as if relocating might help. They ignore the reality that a new version of the same old problem will be waiting at the end of the trip- the relative you cringe to kiss.”

“an expression of surprise falls from her face, though she's trying to keep it. it breaks off and she seems to catch it and fidget with it in her hands.”

“You see, to me, for just a moment, despite all of the colors that touch and grapple with what I see in this world, I will often catch an eclipse when a human dies.I've seen millions of them.I've seen more eclipses than I care to remember”

“I am in all truthfulness attempting to be cheerful about this whole topic, though most people find themselves hindered in believing me, no matter my protestations. Please, trust me. I most definitely can be cheerful. I can be amiable. Agreeable. Affable. And that's only the A's. Just don't ask me to be nice. Nice has nothing to do with me.”

“A bathrobe answered the door. Inside it, a woman...”

“Somewhere, far down, there was an itch in his heart, but he made it a point not to scratch it. He was afraid of what might come leaking out.”

“Woher weiß man, ob etwas lebendig ist?Man schaut nach, ob es atmet.”

“A snowball in the face is surely the perfect beginning to a lasting friendship.”

“Once in while a man or a woman--no, they were not men and women; they were Jews--would find Liesel's face among the crowd. They would meet her with their defeat, and the book thief could do nothing but watch them back in a long, incurable moment before they were gone again. She could only hope they could read the depth of sorrow in her face, to recognize that it was true, and not fleeting.She understood she was utterly worthless to these people. They could not be saved.Then, one human. Hans Hubermann.”

“As she watched all of this, Liesel was certain that these were the poorest souls alive. That's what she wrote about them . . . Some looked appealingly at those who had come to observe their humiliation, this prelude to their deaths. Others pleaded for someone, anyone to step forward and catch them in their arms.No one did.”

“When they arrived in full, the noise of their feet throbbed on top of the road. Their eyes were enormous in their starving skulls. And the dirt. The dirt was molded to them . . . Their feet could barely rise above the ground . . . Stars of David were plastered on their shirts, and misery was attached to them as if assigned. "Don't forget your misery . . ."At their side, the soldiers also made their way pat, ordering them to hurry up and stop moaning. Some of the those soldiers were only boys. They had the Fuhrer in their eyes.”

“For at least twenty minutes she handed out the story. The youngest kids were soothed by her voice, and everyone else saw visions of the whistler running from the scene. Liesel did not. The book thief saw only the mechanics of the words--their bodies stranded on the paper, beaten down for her to walk on. Somewhere, too, in the gaps between a period and the next capital letter, there was also Max. She remembered reading to him when he was sick. It he in the basement? she wondered. Or is he stealing a glimpse of the sky again?”

“She didn't dare to look up, but she could feel their frightened eyes hanging onto her as she hauled the words in and breathed them out. A voice played the notes inside her. This, it said, is your accordion.”

“I did it on purpose.”

“As always, one of her books was next to her.”

“The book thief has struck for the first time – the beginning of an illustrious career.”

“I most definitely can be cheerful. I can be amiable. Agreeable. Affable. And that's only the A's. Just don't ask me to be nice. Nice has nothing to do with me.”

“I'd been in love with her for years. I never left this suburban town. I didn't go to university. I went to Audrey. ”

“White light lowered itself into a boxing ring and a crowd stood and murmured--that magical sound of many people talking all at once. How could every person there have so much to say at the same time?”

“In the basement of 33 Himmel Street, Max Vandenburg could feel the fists of an entire nation. One by one they climbed into the ring to beat him down. They made him bleed. They let him suffer. Millions of them--until one last time, when he gathered himself to his feet...”

“They fought like champions.For a minute.Just when it was getting interesting, both boys were hauled away their collars. A watchful parent.”