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I'd been in love with her for years. I never left this suburban town. I didn't go to university. I went to Audrey.

Markus Zusak

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Markus Zusak
Age: 49
Born: 1975
Born: January 1
Novelist
Writer
Sydney
NSW
Never
Suburban
Love
Town
Towns
University
Went
Left
Didn
Years
Audrey

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The only thing worse than a boy who hates you: a boy that loves you.
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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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The impoverished always try to keep moving, as if relocating might help. They ignore the reality that a new version of the same old problem will be waiting at the end of the trip- the relative you cringe to kiss.
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You don't always get what you wish for. Especially in Nazi Germany
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She was like a lone angel floating above the surface of the earth, laughing with delight because she could fly but crying out of loneliness.
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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.
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Shadows of cloud lurked in the water, like holes the sun forgot about.
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How do you tell if something's alive? You check for breathing.
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You’re a human, you should understand self-obsession.
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The commitment had disappeared, and although he still watched the imagined glory of stealing, she could see now he was not believing. He was trying to believe it, and that’s never a good sign.
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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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Soon evening worked its way into the sky, and the city hunched itself down.
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It amazes me what humans can do, even when streams are flowing down their faces and they stagger on, coughing and searching, and finding.
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Summer came. For the books thief, everything was going nicely. For me, the sky was the color of Jews.
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It was a Monday and they walked on a tightrope to the sun.
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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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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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Everything was good. But it was awful, too.
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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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I only know that all of those people would have sensed me that night, excluding the youngest of the children. I was the suggestion. I was the advice, my imagined feet walking into the kitchen and down the corridor.
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