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
Come
Lovely
Brims
Something
Pages
Bellies
Make
Please
Paragraphs
Good
Full
Bastards
Love
Age
Eyed
Think
Happy
Paragraph
Thinking
Words
Belly
Thought
Fill
Brewed

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The silence was always the greates temptation.
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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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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'm having bigger problems when I'm writing.
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The beauty of my work is that my sets cost nothing. That's what I love about being a writer of novels.
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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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Sometimes I think my papa is an accordion. When he looks at me and smiles and breathes, I hear the notes.
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If only she could be so oblivious again, to feel such love without knowing it, mistaking it for laughter.
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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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They say that war is death's best friend, but I must offer you a different point of view on that one. To me, war is like the new boss who expects the impossible. He stands over your shoulder repeating one thin, incessantly: 'Get it done, get it done.' So you work harder. You get the job done. The boss, however, does not thank you. He asks for more.
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It's a lot easier, she realized, to be on the verge of something than to actually be it. This would still take time.
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The Gunman is useless. I know it. He knows it. The whole bank knows it.
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I just know that right now, we want to be proud. For once. We want to take the struggle and rise above it. We want to frame it, live it, survive it. We want to put it in our mouths and taste it and never forget it, because it makes us strong.
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I even move out onto the front porch and see my own limited view of the world. I want to take that world, and for the first time ever, I feel like I can do it. I’ve survived everything I’ve had to so far. I’m still standing here.
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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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Liesel observed the strangeness of her foster father's eyes. They were made of kindness, and silver.
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A fighter can be a winner, but that doesn't make a winner a fighter.
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The bittersweetness of uncertainty: To win or to lose.
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The happening that happened was that I met this girl.
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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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