“The words. Why did they have to exist? Without them, there wouldn't be any of this.”

“She tore a page from the book and ripped it in half.Then a chapter.Soon, there was nothing but scraps of words littered between her legs and all around her. 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 to make us feel better.What good were the words?She said it audibly now, to the orange-lit room. "What good are the words?”

“She slid a book from the shelf and sat with it on the floor.She tore a page from the book and ripped it in half. Then a chapter.Soon, there was nothing but scraps of words lttered between her legs and all around her. The words. Why did they have to exist? Without them, there wouldn't be ant of this.What good were the words?The book thief stood and waled carefully to the library door.”

“I have hated words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right.”

“I tell me:Let these words be footsteps, because I have a long way to travel. Let the words walk the dirty streets. Let them make their way across the crying grass. Let them stand and breathe and pant smoke in winter evenings. And when they're tired and have fallen down, let them buckle to their feet ad arc around me, watchful.I want these words to be actions.Give them flesh and bones, I say to me, and eyes of hunger and desire, so they can write and fight me through the night.”

“He was the crazy one who had painted himself black and defeated the world.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 rain.”

“She took a step and didn't want to take any more, but she did.”