Quote

It brewed in her as she eyed the pages full to the brims of their bellies with paragraphs and words. You bastards, she thought. You lovely bastards. Don’t make me happy. Please, don’t fill me up and let me think that something good can come of any of this.

Markus Zusak

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Markus Zusak
Age: 49
Born: 1975
Born: January 1
Novelist
Writer
Sydney
NSW
Love
Age
Eyed
Think
Happy
Paragraph
Thinking
Words
Belly
Thought
Fill
Brewed
Come
Lovely
Brims
Something
Pages
Bellies
Make
Please
Paragraphs
Good
Full
Bastards

More quotes by Markus Zusak

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If you ever write a book, I can only give you one piece of advice. Don't let your parents get involved.
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For a moment, I panic. It's that feeling of falling when you know without question, that you've lost control of your car, or made a mistake that's beyond repair. 'What do I do now?' I ask desperately. 'Tell me! What do I do now?' He remains calm. He looks at me closely and says, 'Keep living, Ed... It's only the pages that stop here.
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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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The bombs were coming-and so was I.
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Liesel observed the strangeness of her foster father's eyes. They were made of kindness, and silver.
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But for now, happiness throws stones. It guards itself. I wait.
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There were not many people who could say that their education had been paid for with cigarettes.
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People observe the colors of a day only at its beginnings and ends, but to me it's quite clear that a day merges through a multitude of shades and intonations with each passing moment. A single hour can consist of thousands of different colors. Waxy yellows, cloud-spot blues. Murky darkness. In my line of work, I make it a point to notice them.
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Tears were frozen to the book theif's face.
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How'd it feel? Rube asked himself. I don't know exactly, but it made me want to howl.
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Around us I can sniff out a savagery in the noisy southern air. It knifes it's way into my nose, but I do not bleed blood. It's fear I bleed, and it gushes out over my lip. I wipe it away, in a hurry.
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Liesel shrugged away entirely from the crowd and entered the tide of Jews, weaving through them till she grabbed hold of his arm with her left hand. His face fell on her. It reached down as she tripped, and the Jew,the nasty Jew, helped her up. It took all of his strength.
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Maybe one morning I’ll wake up and step outside of myself to look back at the old me lying dead among the sheets.
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It’s all very well for such a person to whine and moan and criticize other family members, but they won’t let anyone else do it. That’s when you get your back up and show loyalty.
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You’re a human, you should understand self-obsession.
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The sky is blue today, Max, and there is a big long cloud, and it's stretched out, like a rope. At the end of it, the sun is like a yellow hole. . .
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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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...one opportunity leads directly to another, just as risk leads to more risk, life to more life, and death to more death.
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They were glued down, every last one of them. A packet of souls. Was it fate?Misfortune?Is that what glued them down like that?Of course not.Let's not be stupid.It probably had more to do with the hurled bombs, thrown down by humans hiding in the clouds.
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The bittersweetness of uncertainty: To win or to lose.
Markus Zusak