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Often I wish this would all be over, Liesel, but then somehow you do something like walk down the basement steps with a snowman in your hands.
Markus Zusak
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Markus Zusak
Age: 49
Born: 1975
Born: January 1
Novelist
Writer
Sydney
NSW
Often
Basement
Hands
Basements
Something
Somehow
Would
Grief
Like
Walk
Steps
Walks
Wish
Snowman
More quotes by Markus Zusak
He does something to me, that boy. Every time. It’s his only detriment. He steps on my heart. He makes me cry.
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They'd been standing like that for thirty seconds of forever.
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Maybe everyone can live beyond what they're capable of.
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The last time I saw her was red. The sky was like soup, boiling and stirring. In some places, it was burned. There were black crumbs, and pepper, streaked across the redness.
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You can't eat books, sweetheart.
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You cannot be afraid, Read the book. Smile at it. It's a great book-the greatest book you've ever read.
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Together, they would watch everything that was so carefully planned collapse, and they would smile at the beauty of destruction.
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The day was gray, the color of Europe.
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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.
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You don't shoot a dog when it is already dead.
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I'm not a writer who refuses to talk about a book until I've finished.
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I s'pose, I can't have it all my own way, can I? You can't drown in a person unless they let you.
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Around us I can sniff out a savagery in the noisy southern air. It knifes it's way into my nose, but I do not bleed blood. It's fear I bleed, and it gushes out over my lip. I wipe it away, in a hurry.
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Better that we leave the paint behind, Hans told her, than ever forget the music.
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Soon evening worked its way into the sky, and the city hunched itself down.
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Very suddenly. Yes, quite suddenly, I didn't feel like I could handle my feeling of aloneness.
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There were stars. They burned my eyes.
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The happening that happened was that I met this girl.
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Even enemies were an inch away from friendship.
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The scrawled words of practice stood magnificently on the wall by the stairs, jagged and childlike and sweet. They looked on as both the hidden Jew and the girl slept, hand to shoulder. They breathed. German and Jewish lungs.
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