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I look at her wish we could go inside and make love on the couch. Dive inside each other. Take each other. Make each other. Nothing happens, though.

Markus Zusak

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Markus Zusak
Age: 49
Born: 1975
Born: January 1
Novelist
Writer
Sydney
NSW
Nothing
Dive
Looks
Couch
Take
Couches
Make
Inside
Love
Though
Wish
Happens
Look

More quotes by Markus Zusak

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It is early, early morning. It's that time when it's still dark but you know the day is coming. Blue is bleeding through black. Stars are dying.
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The day was gray, the color of Europe.
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Very suddenly. Yes, quite suddenly, I didn't feel like I could handle my feeling of aloneness.
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Yes, I know it. In the darkness of my dark beating heart, I know. He'd have loved it alright. You see? Even Death Has A Heart.
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There are moments when you can only stand and stare, watching the world forget you as you remove yourself from it - when you overcome it and cease to exist as the person you were.
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She was a girl with a mountain to climb.
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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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There were stars. They burned my eyes.
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Competence was attractive.
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an expression of surprise falls from her face, though she's trying to keep it. it breaks off and she seems to catch it and fidget with it in her hands.
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Can a person steal happiness? Or is just another internal, infernal human trick?
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It's about glowing lights and small things that are big.
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The last time I saw her was red. The sky was like soup, boiling and stirring. In some places, it was burned. There were black crumbs, and pepper, streaked across the redness.
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I guess that’s the beauty of books. When they finish they don’t really finish.
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Soon evening worked its way into the sky, and the city hunched itself down.
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THE LAST WORDS OF MAX VANDENBURG: You've done enough.
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When a person's last response was Saumensch or Saukerl or Arschloch, you knew you had them beaten.
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She didn't dare to look up, but she could feel their frightened eyes hanging onto her as she hauled the words in and breathed them out. A voice played the notes inside her. This, it said, is your accordion.
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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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It's not the place, I think. It's the people. We'd have all been the same anywhere else.
Markus Zusak