Markus Zusak, The Book Thief
103 quotes
"A DEFINITION NOT FOUND IN THE DICTIONARY Not leaving: an act of trust and love,often deciphered by children"
"Usually we walk around constantly believing ourselves. "I'm okay" we say. "I'm alright". But sometimes the truth arrives on you and you can't get it off. That's when you realize that sometimes it isn't even an answer--it's a question. Even now, I wonder how much of my life is convinced."
"... And the boy whose hair remained the color of lemons forever."
"He killed himself for wanting to live."
"Papa was a man with silver eyes, not dead ones. Papa was an accordion! But his bellows were all empty. Nothing went in and nothing came out."
"The bombs were coming-and so was I."
"How do you tell if something's alive? You check for breathing."
"Death waits for no man - and if he does, he doesn't usually wait for very long."
"I know who you are and I am ready. Not that I want to go, of course, but I will come." Those souls are always light because more of them have been put out."
"The scribbled signature black, onto the blinding global white, onto the thick soupy red."
"For two days I went about my business. I travelled the globe as always, handing souls to the conveyor belt of eternity."
"Could she smell my breath? Could she hear my cursed circular heart beat revolving like the crime it is in my deathly chest?"
"And I can promise you something, because it was a thing I saw many years later - a vision in the book thief herself - that as she knelt next to Hans Hubermann, she watched him stand and play the accordion. He stood and strapped it on in the alps of broken houses and played the accordion with kindness silver eyes and even a cigarette slouched on his lips. The bellows breathed and the tall man played for Liesel Meminger one last time as the sky was slowly taken away from her."
"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. Still, they have one thing I envy. Humans, if nothing else, have the good sense to die."
"I actually feel quite self-indulgent at the moment, telling you all about me, me, me.(...) On the other hand, you're a human -you should understand self obsession."
"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."
"She wanted none of those days to end, and it was always with disappointment that she watched the darkness stride forward."
"As always, she was carrying the washing. Rudy was carrying two buckets of cold water, or as he put it, two buckets of future ice."
"She said it out loud, the words distributed into a room that was full of cold air and books. Books everywhere! Each wall was armed with overcrowded yet immaculate shelving. It was barely possible to see paintwork. There were all different styles and sizes of lettering on the spines of the black, the red, the gray, the every-colored books. It was one of the most beautiful things Liesel Meminger had ever seen.With wonder, she smiled.That such a room existed!"
"How does it feel, anyway?"How does what feel?"When you take one of those books?"At that moment, she chose to keep still. If he wants an answer, he'd have to come back, and he did. "Well?" he asked, but again, it was the boy who replied, before Liesel could even open her mouth.It feels good, doesn't it? To steal something back."
"The paper landed on the table, but the news was stapled to his chest. A tattoo."
"All told, she owned fourteen books, but she saw her story as being made up predominantly of ten of them. Of those ten, six were stolen, one showed up at the kitchen table, two were made for her by a hidden Jew, and one was delivered by a soft, yellow-dressed afternoon."
"I watched the sky as it turned from silver to grey to the colour of rain. Even the clouds tried to look the other way."
"When finally she finished and stood herself up, he put his arm around her, best-buddy style, and they walked on. There was no request for a kiss. Nothing like that. You can love Rudy for that, if you like."
"July 24, 6:03 A.M.The laundry was warm and the rafters were firm, and Michael Holzapfel jumped from the chair as if it were a cliff...Michael Holzapfel knew what he was doing. He killed himself for wanting to live."