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And then there's the sickness I feel from looking at legs I can't touch, or at lips that don't smile at me. Or hips that don't reach for me. And hearts that don't beat for me.
Markus Zusak
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Markus Zusak
Age: 49
Born: 1975
Born: January 1
Novelist
Writer
Sydney
NSW
Looking
Beat
Feel
Legs
Feels
Lips
Heart
Beats
Smile
Touch
Hearts
Sickness
Reach
Hips
More quotes by Markus Zusak
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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THE LAST WORDS OF MAX VANDENBURG: You've done enough.
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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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If only she could be so oblivious again, to feel such love without knowing it, mistaking it for laughter.
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The bombs were coming-and so was I.
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I don't really know that this story has a whole lot of things happen in it. It doesn't really. It's just a record of how things were in my life during this last winter. I guess things happened, but nothing out of the ordinary.
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I want to talk to him. I want to ask him about that girl and if he loved her and still misses her. Nothing, however, exits my mouth. How well do we really let ourselves know each other? There's a long quietness until I finally break it open. It reminds me of someone breaking bread and handing it out. In my case, I hand out a question to my friend.
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I try hard and aim big. People can hate or love my books but they can never accuse me of not trying.
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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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Rosa Hubermann was sitting on the edge of the bed with her husband's accordion tied to her chest. Her fingers hovered above the keys. She did not move. She didn't ever appear to be breathing.
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As she watched all of this, Liesel was certain that these were the poorest souls alive. That's what she wrote about them . . . Some looked appealingly at those who had come to observe their humiliation, this prelude to their deaths. Others pleaded for someone, anyone to step forward and catch them in their arms. No one did.
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Tears were frozen to the book theif's face.
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Outside is dark. The kitchen light is loud. It deafens me as I walk towards it.
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Because you don't learn anything unless you can find the patience to read. TV takes that away from you. It robs you from your mind.
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His soul sat up. It met me. Those kinds of souls always do - the best ones. The ones who rise up and say I know who you are and I am ready. Not that I want to go, of course, but I will come. Those souls are always light because more of them have been put out. More of them have already found their way to other places.
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I realize that nothing belongs to her anymore and she belongs to everything.
Markus Zusak
We're silent now, both waiting, till I remind myself that I'm the older one and should therefore initiate conversation. But I don't. I don't want to waste this girl with idle chitchat. She's beautiful.
Markus Zusak
When a person's last response was Saumensch or Saukerl or Arschloch, you knew you had them beaten.
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You might argue that I make the rounds no matter what year it is, but sometimes the human race likes to crank things up a little. They increase the production of bodies and their escaping souls.
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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.
Markus Zusak