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Maybe one morning I’ll wake up and step outside of myself to look back at the old me lying dead among the sheets.

Markus Zusak

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Markus Zusak
Age: 49
Born: 1975
Born: January 1
Novelist
Writer
Sydney
NSW
Lying
Wake
Back
Step
Look
Outside
Looks
Among
Steps
Dead
Maybe
Morning
Sheets

More quotes by Markus Zusak

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You can do all manner of underhanded nice things when you have a caustic reputation.
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The silence was always the greates temptation.
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I think to be writer you have to enjoy being alone. I was a loner as a teenager and was always drawn to characters in books and films who were at the fringes.
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..As always, she was carrying the washing. Rudy was carrying two buckets of cold water, or as he put it, two buckets of future ice.
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But for now, happiness throws stones. It guards itself. I wait.
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Even death has a heart.
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I had many boxing matches with my brother in the backyard when we were younger, and I guess while other people abhor boxing for its brutality, I also have to admire anyone who climbs into the ring to face up to what could be the ultimate defeat.
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Failure has been my best friend as a writer. It tests you, to see if you have what it takes to see it through.
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***A KEY WORD*** Imagined
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A small fact: You are going to die....does this worry you?
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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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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.
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I'm not a writer who refuses to talk about a book until I've finished.
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There were stars. They burned my eyes.
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It was a Monday and they walked on a tightrope to the sun.
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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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The day was gray, the color of Europe.
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I wanted to ask her how the same thing could be so ugly and so glorious, and its words and stories so damning and brilliant.
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If her soul ever leaks, I want it to land on me.
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You should give it to Max, Liesel. See if you can leave it on the bedside table, like all the other things. Liesel watched him as if he'd gone insane. How, though? Lightly, he tapped her skull with his knuckles. Memorize it. Then write it down for him.
Markus Zusak