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The silence was always the greates temptation.

Markus Zusak

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Markus Zusak
Age: 50
Born: 1975
Born: January 1
Novelist
Writer
Sydney
NSW
Temptation
Silence
Always

More quotes by Markus Zusak

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As a child in Sydney, my German Mum and my Austrian Dad would spontaneously tell me stories about what they saw and what they did as children. It was like a piece of Europe coming into our house... Those stories led me to my writing.
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...to swear with a ferocity that can only be described as a talent.
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You can do all manner of underhanded nice things when you have a caustic reputation.
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Only hearts... They're in the inside of the inside of me.
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Sometimes you read a book so special that you want to carry it around with you for months after you've finished just to stay near it.
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When she faced the noise, she found the mayor’s wife in a brand-new bathrobe and slippers. On the breast pocket of the robe sat an embroidered swastika. Propaganda even reached the bathroom.
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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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Have faith, Ed, all right?' I search the coffee mug, but there's none in there.
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Liesel crossed the bridge over the Amper River. The water was glorious and emerald and rich. She could see the stones at the bottom and hear the familiar song of water. The world did not deserve such a river.
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Together, they would watch everything that was so carefully planned collapse, and they would smile at the beauty of destruction.
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They'd been standing like that for thirty seconds of forever.
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Better that we leave the paint behind, Hans told her, than ever forget the music.
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The conversation of bullets.
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The impoverished always try to keep moving, as if relocating might help. They ignore the reality that a new version of the same old problem will be waiting at the end of the trip- the relative you cringe to kiss.
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Of course you're real-like any thought or any story. It's real when you're in it.
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Soon evening worked its way into the sky, and the city hunched itself down.
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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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It's my heart that is tired. A thirteen-year-old heart shouldn't feel like this.
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Or had she always loved him? It's likely. Restricted as she was from speaking, she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to drag her hand across and pull her over. It didn't matter where. Her mouth, her neck, her cheek. Her skin was empty for it, waiting.
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Yes, the sky was now a devastating, home-cooked red. The small German town had been flung apart one more time. Snowflakes of ash fell so lovelily you were tempted to stretch out your tongue to catch them, taste them. Only, they would have scorched your lips. They would have cooked your mouth.
Markus Zusak