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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
Reach
Hips
Looking
Beat
Feel
Legs
Feels
Lips
Heart
Beats
Smile
Touch
Hearts
Sickness

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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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Trust was accumulated quickly, due primarily to the brute strength of the man's gentleness, his thereness. (p.36)
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I read some books that were the right books for me. I read them and I didn't even notice turning the pages anymore. I thought, That's what I want to do with my life.
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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 have to say that although it broke my heart, I was, and still am, glad I was there.
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It's hard to not like a man who not only notices the colors, but speaks them
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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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It was a Monday and they walked on a tightrope to the sun.
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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.
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Clearly, I see it. I was just about to leave when I found her kneeling there. A mountain range of rubble was written, designed, erected around her. She was clucthing at a book.
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