I’m Angelina,” she says. “Are you here to save us?” I can see a tiny spark of hope awaken in her eyes.
“You’re right, Angelina - I’m here to save you.”
“Can you? Really?”
“I’ll try,” I say and the girl smiles.


Markus Zusak

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So am I.'- Rudy
MARKUS ZUSAK
It feels like spoken words, this bridge. I want it but fear it. God, I want so desperately to reach ...
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Would I always feel so small that it hurt and that even the greatest outcry roaring from my throat w...
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Our own place is mall perhaps, but when your old man is eaten by his own shadow, you realise that ma...
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We are wolves, which are wild dogs, and this is our place in the city. We are small and our house is...
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And then there's the sickness I feel from looking at legs I can't touch, or at lips that don't smile...
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When you looked out my window you could see the whole city crouched under a blanket of car smog.
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Often I wish this would all be over, Liesel, but then somehow you do something like walk down the ba...
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Papa was a man with silver eyes, not dead ones.
Papa was an accordion!
But his bellows w...
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Sometimes I think my papa is an accordion. When he looks at me and smiles and breathes, I hear the n...
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She walked down the basement steps. She saw an imaginary framed photo seep into the wall - a quiet-s...
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***A KEY WORD***
Imagined
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... the city around us seemed colder than ever again, and I realised that even if it really had sens...
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The dog next-door had settled down, and the neighbourhood seemed stunned by this event occurring in ...
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I stood there and stared, into the sky and at the city around me. I stood, hands at my side, and I s...
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Can a person steal happiness? Or is just another internal, infernal human trick?
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Mistakes, mistakes, it's all I seem capable of at times.
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You might well ask just what the hell he was thinking. The answer is, probably nothing at all.He'd p...
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An eleven-year-old girl is many things, but she is not stupid.
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My own eyes try to sleep, but they don't. They stay wide awake as time snarls forward and silence dr...
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It was one of those moments of perfect tiredness, of having conquered not only the work at hand, but...
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Already, I know that all of this will stay with me forever. It'll haunt me, but I also fear it will ...
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Even now, I wonder how much of my life is convinced.
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I don't really know that this story has a whole lot of things happen in it. It doesn't really. It's ...
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How do you tell if something's alive? You check for breathing.
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For Liesel Meminger, the early stages of 1942 could be summed up like this:
She became thirteen...
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He's been to the brink and come back. I guess when you lose your pride, even for just a moment, you ...
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I bet that guy was as obsessed with Sarah as I am with this other girl, and I bet he promised himsel...
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They say that war is death's best friend, but I must offer you a different point of view on that one...
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I've wandered through the real world, and written myself through the darkness of the streets inside ...
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When death captures me," the boy vowed, "he will feel my fist in his face." (31.26)
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It's hard to not like a man who not only notices the colors, but speaks them.
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The soft-spoken words fell off the side of the bed, emptying to the floor like powder.
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I like that every page in every book can have a gem on it. It's probably what I love most about writ...
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Now I've changed things. I've left my own fingerprints on the world, no matter how small, and it's u...
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In years to come, he would be a giver of bread, not a stealer - proof again of the contradictory hum...
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You can't eat books, sweetheart.
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One day, Liesel.' he said, 'you'll be dying to kiss me.
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A fighter can be a winner, but that doesn't make a winner a fighter.
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I wanted to explain that I am constantly overestimating and underestimating the human race - that ra...
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When I was growing up, I wanted to be a house painter like my father, but I was always screwing up w...
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People observe the colors of a day at its beginnings and ends, but to me it's quiet clear that a day...
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See, I was never a guy who had a whole heap of friends to belong to. Besides Greg Fienni, I never re...
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And why?’ He pauses. ‘I did it because you are the epitome of ordinariness, Ed. And if a guy lik...
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She closes the door completely, and I crouch there. I allow myself to fall forward and rest my head ...
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I guess that’s the beauty of books. When they finish they don’t really finish.
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The words were on their way, and when they arrived, she would hold them in her hands like the clouds...
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How many times did she have to say goodbye?
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Where Hans Hubermann and Erik Vandenburg were ultimately united by music, Max and Liesel were held t...
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Here is a small fact: You are going to die"
"does this scare you? I urge you don't be afraid, I...
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*** A SMALL ANNOUNCEMENT ***
ABOUT RUDY STEINER
He didn't deserve to die the way he did.
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*** A SMALL ANNOUNCEMENT ***
***ABOUT RUDY STEINER***
He didn't deserve to die the way he ...
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The moon was sewn into the sky that night
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The question is, what colour will everything be at that moment when I come for you? What will the sk...
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There are skies manufactured by people, punctured and leaking,and there are soft,coal-colored clouds...
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He must have longed for it so much. He must have loved her so incredibly hard. So hard that he would...
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He had what he called just a small ration of tools:
A painted book.
A handful of pencils.<...
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She was a Jew feeder without a question in the world on that man's first night in Molching. She was ...
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An attribute of Rosa Hubermann, she was a good woman for a crisis.
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Her teeth were like a soccer crowd, crammed in.
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If your eyes could speak, what would they say?.
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Don’t make me happy. Please, don’t fill me up and let me think that something good can come of a...
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The Germans in basements were pitiable, surely, but at least they had a chance. That basement was no...
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