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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.

Markus Zusak

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Markus Zusak
Age: 49
Born: 1975
Born: January 1
Novelist
Writer
Sydney
NSW
Burning
Dissolved
Paper
Orange
Inside
Torn
Words
Flames
Crowd
Print
Crowds
Sentences
Waved

More quotes by Markus Zusak

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The nightmares arrived like they always did, much like the best player in the opposition when you've heard rumors that he might be injured or sick-but there he is, warming up with the rest of them, ready to take the field.
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I s'pose, I can't have it all my own way, can I? You can't drown in a person unless they let you.
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He prefers not to ruin things with any more questions. What it is is what it is.
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I had to decide what I was going to do, and what I was going to be. I was standing there, waiting for someone to do something , till I realised the person I was waiting for was myself.
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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.
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Can a person steal happiness? Or is just another internal, infernal human trick?
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Humans, if nothing else, have the good sense to die.
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I love and hate this place because it is full of words.
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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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When a person's last response was Saumensch or Saukerl or Arschloch, you knew you had them beaten.
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You cannot be afraid, Read the book. Smile at it. It's a great book-the greatest book you've ever read.
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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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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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The bittersweetness of uncertainty: To win or to lose.
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How does it feel, anyway? How does what feel? When you take one of those books? At that moment, she chose to keep still. If he wants an answer, he'd have to come back, and he did. Well? he asked, but again, it was the boy who replied, before Liesel could even open her mouth. It feels good, doesn't it? To steal something back.
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I am hunted by humans.
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The night is alive with stars, and when I lie down and look up, I get lost up there. I feel like I’m falling, but upward, into the abyss of sky above me.
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Why me?' I ask God. God says nothing. I laugh and the stars watch. It's good to be alive.
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THE LAST WORDS OF MAX VANDENBURG: You've done enough.
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for some reason, dying men always ask the question they know the answer to. perhaps it's so they can die being right.
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