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The point is, Ilsa Hermann had decided to make suffering her triumph. When it refused to let go of her, she succumbed to it. She embraced it.

Markus Zusak

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Markus Zusak
Age: 49
Born: 1975
Born: January 1
Novelist
Writer
Sydney
NSW
Refused
Triumph
Decided
Suffering
Point
Make
Succumbed
Embraced

More quotes by Markus Zusak

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I am hunted by humans.
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A small fact: You are going to die....does this worry you?
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Sometimes I think my papa is an accordion. When he looks at me and smiles and breathes, I hear the notes.
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You should give it to Max, Liesel. See if you can leave it on the bedside table, like all the other things. Liesel watched him as if he'd gone insane. How, though? Lightly, he tapped her skull with his knuckles. Memorize it. Then write it down for him.
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But then, is there cowardice in the acknowledgment of fear? Is there cowardice in being glad that you lived?
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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 at me. Or hips that don't reach for me. And hearts that don't beat for me.
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The sky is blue today, Max, and there is a big long cloud, and it's stretched out, like a rope. At the end of it, the sun is like a yellow hole. . .
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The day was gray, the color of Europe.
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***A KEY WORD*** Imagined
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Failure has been my best friend as a writer. It tests you, to see if you have what it takes to see it through.
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Yes, I know it. In the darkness of my dark beating heart, I know. He'd have loved it alright. You see? Even Death Has A Heart.
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How about a kiss, Saumensch?
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..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.
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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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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.
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Sometimes you read a book so special that you want to carry it around with you for months after you've finished just to stay near it.
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It was a Monday and they walked on a tightrope to the sun.
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It's about glowing lights and small things that are big.
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Tears were frozen to the book theif's face.
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The first couple of times, he simply stayed - a stranger to kill the aloneness. A few nights after that, he whispered “Shhh, I’m here, its alright.” After three weeks, he held her. Trust was accumulated quickly, due primarily to the brute strength of the man’s gentleness, his thereness.
Markus Zusak