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A REASSURING ANNOUNCEMENT Please, be calm, despite that previous threat. I am all bluster - I am not violent. I am not malicious. I am a result.

Markus Zusak

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Markus Zusak
Age: 49
Born: 1975
Born: January 1
Novelist
Writer
Sydney
NSW
Results
Reassuring
Previous
Despite
Violent
Calm
Bluster
Threat
Announcement
Result
Announcements
Please
Malicious

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It was one of those moments of perfect tiredness, of having conquered not only the work at hand, but the night who had blocked the way.
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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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Living in Sydney, I've taken the chance to start surfing again. One of my best memories of growing up is catching my first proper wave and surfing across it and my brother cheering at me from the shore.
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It's about glowing lights and small things that are big.
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No matter how many times she was told that she was loved, there was no recognition that the proof was in the abandonment.
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Sometimes people are beautiful. Not in looks. Not in what they say. Just in what they are.
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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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I'm not one of these 'the characters write themselves the story just fell out of me' kind of writers. Wish it was like that.
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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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It's not the place, I think. It's the people. We'd have all been the same anywhere else.
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She could smell the pages. She could almost taste the words as they stacked up around her.
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If her soul ever leaks, I want it to land on me.
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When she faced the noise, she found the mayor’s wife in a brand-new bathrobe and slippers. On the breast pocket of the robe sat an embroidered swastika. Propaganda even reached the bathroom.
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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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I guess that’s the beauty of books. When they finish they don’t really finish.
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… it was raining on Himmel Street when the world ended for Liesel Meminger. The sky was dripping. Like a tap that a child has tried its hardest to turn off but hasn’t quite managed.
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July 24, 6:03 A.M. The laundry was warm and the rafters were firm, and Michael Holzapfel jumped from the chair as if it were a cliff... Michael Holzapfel knew what he was doing. He killed himself for wanting to live.
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I am hunted by humans.
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