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Liesel's blood had dried inside of her. It crumbled. She almost broke into pieces on the steps.

Markus Zusak

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Markus Zusak
Age: 49
Born: 1975
Born: January 1
Novelist
Writer
Sydney
NSW
Blood
Almost
Crumbled
Dried
Broke
Pieces
Steps
Inside

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She was a girl with a mountain to climb.
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I'm having bigger problems when I'm writing.
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Personally, I like a chocolate-colored sky, dark, dark chocolate.
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I am hunted by humans.
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You can do anything when it's not real.
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THE LAST WORDS OF MAX VANDENBURG: You've done enough.
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Tears were frozen to the book theif's face.
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Or had she always loved him? It's likely. Restricted as she was from speaking, she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to drag her hand across and pull her over. It didn't matter where. Her mouth, her neck, her cheek. Her skin was empty for it, waiting.
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I guess that’s the beauty of books. When they finish they don’t really finish.
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I want to talk to him. I want to ask him about that girl and if he loved her and still misses her. Nothing, however, exits my mouth. How well do we really let ourselves know each other? There's a long quietness until I finally break it open. It reminds me of someone breaking bread and handing it out. In my case, I hand out a question to my friend.
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Each night, Liesel would step outside, wipe the door, and watch the sky. Usually it was like spillage - cold and heavy, slippery and gray - but once in a while some stars had the nerve to rise and float, if only for a few minutes. On those nights, she would stay a little longer and wait. Hello, stars.
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