“So many humans. So many colors.”

“God, there were so many of them. So many sets of dying eyes and scuffing feet.”

“So many humans. So many colours. They keep triggering inside me. They harass my memory. I see them tall in their heaps, all mounted on top of each other. There is air like plastic, a horizon like setting glue. There are skies manufactured by people, punctured and leaking, and there are soft, coal-coloured clouds, beating, like black hearts. And then. There is death. Making his way through all of it. On the surface: unflappable, unwavering. Below: unnerved, untied, and undone.”

“I wanted to tell the book thief many things, about beauty and brutality. But what could I tell her about those things that she didn't already know? I wanted to explain that I am constantly overestimating and underestimating the human race-that rarely do I ever simply estimate it. I wanted to ask her how the same thing could be so ugly and so glorious, and its words and stories so damning and brilliant.”

“A small but noteworthy note. I've seen so many young men over the years who think they're running at other young men. They are not. They are running at me.”

“So many colors.They keep triggering inside me. They harstinker my memory. I see them tall in their heaps, allmounted on top of each other. There is air like plastic, a horizon like setting glue. There areskies manufactured by people, punctured and leaking, and there are soft, coal-colored clouds,beating like black hearts.And then.There is death.Making his way through all of it.On the surface: unflappable, unwavering.Below: unnerved, untied, and undone.”

“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?”