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I wanted to ask her how the same thing could be so ugly and so glorious, and its words and stories so damning and brilliant.

Markus Zusak

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Markus Zusak
Age: 49
Born: 1975
Born: January 1
Novelist
Writer
Sydney
NSW
Ugly
Asks
Words
Stories
Wanted
Thing
Damning
Glorious
Brilliant

More quotes by 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.
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An attribute of Rosa Hubermann, she was a good woman for a crisis.
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I'm asking you, I'm begging you, could you please shut your mouth for just five minutes? You can imagine the reaction. They ended up in the basement.
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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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Humans, if nothing else, have the good sense to die.
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Tears were frozen to the book theif's face.
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How about a kiss, Saumensch?
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Outside is dark. The kitchen light is loud. It deafens me as I walk towards it.
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I always marvel at the humans' ability to keep going. They always manage to stagger on even with tears streaming down their faces.
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But neither of us knows, because a fight's worth nothing if you know from the start that you're going to win it.
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an expression of surprise falls from her face, though she's trying to keep it. it breaks off and she seems to catch it and fidget with it in her hands.
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Could she smell my breath? Could she hear my cursed circular heart beat revolving like the crime it is in my deathly chest?
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I want words at my funeral. But I guess that means you need life in your life.
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I thought what if death is more like thinking, well, war is like the boss at your shoulder, constantly wanting more, wanting more, wanting more, and then that gave me the idea that Death is weary, he's fatigued, and he's haunted by what he sees humans do to each other because he's on hand for all of our great miseries.
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It was the beginning of the greatest Christmas ever. Little food. No presents. But there was a snowman in their basement.
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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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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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The best word shakers were the ones who understood the true power of words. They were the ones who could climb the highest. One such word shaker was a small, skinny girl. She was renowned as the best word shaker of her region because she knew how powerless a person could be WITHOUT words.
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Even death has a heart.
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Grimly, she realized that clocks don't make a sound that even remotely resembles ticking, tocking. It was more the sound of a hammer, upside down, hacking methodically at the earth. It was the sound of a grave.
Markus Zusak