Markus Zusak Quotes - Page 3

A halo surrounded the grim reaper nun, Sister Maria. (By the way-I like this human idea of the grim reaper. I like the scythe. It amuses me.)

If they killed him tonight, at least he would die alive.

for some reason, dying men always ask the question they know the answer to. perhaps it's so they can die being right.

Grimly, she realized that clocks don't make a sound that even remotely resembles ticking, tocking. It was more the sound of a hammer, upside down, hacking methodically at the earth. It was the sound of a grave.

And it would show me, once again, that one opportunity leads directly to another, just as risk leads to more risk, life to more life, and death to more death.

Still, they have one thing I envy. Humans, if nothing else, have the good sense to die.

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.

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.

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?

I say His name in a futile attempt to understand. "But it's not your job to understand." That's me who answers. God never says anything. Tou think you're the only one he never answers?

***A KEY WORD***
Imagined

As we walk back, it feels like the city is engulfing us. Adrenalin still pours through our veins. Sparks flow through to our fingers. We've still been running in the mornings, but the city's different then. It's filled with hope and with bristles of winter sunshine. In the evening, it's like it dies, waiting to be born again the next morning.

..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.

Best friends one, and now we have almost nothing to say to each other. It was interesting, how he had joined those guys and I just stayed on my own. I didn't like it or dislike it. It was just funny that things had turned out that way.

His church is the old one at the edge of town, and I now realize why he's chosen to live here. The church is too far away for him to really help anyone, so this is the best place for him. It's everywhere, on all sides and angles. This is where the father needs to be. Not in some church, gathering dust.