Markus Zusak Quotes - Page 4

In the darkness of my dark-beating heart, I know. He'd have loved it, all right.

Even now, I wonder how much of my life is convinced.

My arms are killing me.
I didn't know words could be so heavy.

The point is, it didn’t really matter what the book was about. It was what it meant that was important.

As always, one of her books was next to her.

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 book thief has struck for the first time – the beginning of an illustrious career.

I guess that’s the beauty of books. When they finish they don’t really finish.

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.

At the end of the day, it’s still up to you, and that’s the beauty of books. In so many ways, they never really end.

I was always reading books when I should have been doing math and the rest of it.

Hals und Beinbruch, Saukerl.

She wanted none of those days to end, and it was always with disappointment that she watched the darkness stride forward.

It's funny, don't you think, how time seems to do a lot of things? It flies, it tells, and worst of all, it runs out.

It makes me wonder, Do we spend most of our days trying to remember or forget things? Do we spend most of our time running towards or away from our lives? I don't know.

It is early, early morning. It's that time when it's still dark but you know the day is coming. Blue is bleeding through black. Stars are dying.

My own eyes try to sleep, but they don't. They stay wide awake as time snarls forward and silence drops down, like measured thought.

Time will tell, I suppose, or at least, these pages will.

I wanted to drown inside a woman in the feeling and drooling of the love I could give her. I wanted her pulse to crush me with its intensity. That's what I wanted. That's what I wanted myself to be.