Quotes by Markus Zusak

And then theres the sickness I feel from looking at legs I cant touch, or at lips that dont smile at me. Or hips that dont reach for me. And hearts that dont beat for me.

Papa!” she whispered. “I have no eyes!”He patted the girl’s hair. She’d fallen into his trap. “With a smile like that,” Hans Hubermann said, “you don’t need eyes.

I... He struggled to answer. When everything was quiet, I went up to the corridor and the curtain in the livingroom was open just a crack... I could see outside. I watched, only for a few seconds. He had not seen the outside world for twenty-two months.There was no anger or reproach.It was Papa who spoke.How did it look?Max lifted his head, with great sorrow and great astonishment. There were stars, he said. They burned by eyes.

Max lifted his head, with great sorrow and great astonishment.There were stars, He said. They burned my eyes.’...from a Himmel street window, he wrote, the stars set fire to my eyes.

The night is alive with stars, and when I lie down and look up, I get lost up there. I feel like I’m falling, but upward, into the abyss of sky above me.

Their heartbeats fought each other, a mess of rhythm. Liesel tried to eat hers down. The taste of heart was not too cheerful.

One day, Liesel. he said, youll be dying to kiss me.

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

Soon, there was nothing but scraps of words littered between her legs and all around her. Ther words. Why did they have to exist? Without them, there wouldnt be any of this. Without words, the Fuhrer was nothing. There would be no limping prisoners, no need for consolation or wordly tricks to make us feel better.

I walked home, seeing all my doubt from the other side. Have you ever seen that? Like when you go on holiday. On the way back, everything is the same but it looks a little different than it did on the way. Its because youre seeing it backwards.

Personally, I like a chocolate-covered sky. Dark, dark chocolate. People say it suits me. I do, however, try to enjoy every color I see - the whole spectrum. A billion or so flavors, none of them quite the same, and a sky to slowly suck on. It takes the edge off the stress. It helps me relax.

The city was dark except for the building lights that seemed to appear like sores - like bandaids had been ripped off to expose the citys skin.

It was one of those moments of perfect tiredness, of having conquered not only the work at hand, but the night who had blocked the way.

For at least twenty minutes, she handed out the story.

I feel the fear, but I walk fast toward it.

I deliberately seek out the colors to keep my mind off them, but now and then, I witness the ones who are left behind, crumbling among the jigsaw puzzle of realization, despair and surprise.

People observe the colors of a day at its beginnings and ends, but to me its quiet clear that a day merges through a multitude of shades and intonations, with each passing moment.

The Proclaimers thunder through my head.Imagine it.Imagine killing someone to the tune of two Scottish nerds wearing glasses and flattop haircuts. How will I ever listen to that song again? What will I do if it comes on the radio? Ill think of the night I murdered another man and stole his life with my own hands.

Right. Thats twenty-two fifty.Twenty-two fifty? We cant hide our exasperation.Well, yeah - this is a classy joint, you know.Thats obvious - the service is incredible.

I guess when someone tells you something they they usually guard, you feel privileged, not because you know something no-one else knows, but because you feel chosen. You feel like that person wants her life to intersect with yours. I think thats what felt best about it.