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I think she ate a salad and some soup. And loneliness. She ate that, too.

Markus Zusak

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Markus Zusak
Age: 49
Born: 1975
Born: January 1
Novelist
Writer
Sydney
NSW
Think
Thinking
Salad
Soup
Loneliness

More quotes by Markus Zusak

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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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Please, trust me, I most definitely can be cheerful. I can be amiable. Agreeable. Affable. And that's only the A's. Just don't ask me to be nice. Nice has nothing to do with me.
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Yes, I'm often reminded of her, and in one of my array of pockets, I have kept her story to retell. It is one of the small legion I carry, each one extraordinary in its own right. Each one an attempt - an immense leap of an attempt - to prove to me that you, and your human existence, are worth it.
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My voice is like a rumour. I'm not sure if it came out or not, or if it is true.
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Make sure you live,' she said. 'As decent as you can. I know you'll make mistakes, but sometimes you're meant to, okay?
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I'm not a writer who refuses to talk about a book until I've finished.
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Competence was attractive.
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I try hard and aim big. People can hate or love my books but they can never accuse me of not trying.
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I think 'The Lord Of The Rings' is the mother of all cult books, because you can be in that cult and not even know you're in it.
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I am hunted by humans.
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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 do all manner of underhanded nice things when you have a caustic reputation.
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A small fact: You are going to die....does this worry you?
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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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An attribute of Rosa Hubermann, she was a good woman for a crisis.
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The orange flames waved at the crowd as paper and print dissolved inside them. Burning words were torn from their sentences.
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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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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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It's hard to not like a man who not only notices the colors, but speaks them
Markus Zusak
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I look at her wish we could go inside and make love on the couch. Dive inside each other. Take each other. Make each other. Nothing happens, though.
Markus Zusak