“You should give it to Max, Liesel. See if you can leave it on the bedside table, like all the other things." Liesel watched him as if he'd gone insane. "How, though?" Lightly, he tapped her skull with his knuckles. "Memorize it. Then write it down for him.”

“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.”

“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. His soul whispered it as I carried him. But there was no Liesel in that house. Not for me, anyway.”

“***CHRISTMAS GREETINGS FROM*** MAX VANDENBURGOften I wish this would all be over, Liesel, but then somehow you do something like walk down the basement steps with a snowman in your hands. ”

“For Liesel Meminger, the early stages of 1942 could be summed up like this:She became thirteen years of age. Her chest was still flat. She had not yet bled. The young man from her basement was now in her bed.***Q&A***How did Max Vandenburg end up in liesel's bed? He fell.”

“He switched off the light, came back and sat in the chair. In the darkness, Liesel kept her eyes open. She was watching the words.”