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I'm not one of these 'the characters write themselves the story just fell out of me' kind of writers. Wish it was like that.

Markus Zusak

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Markus Zusak
Age: 49
Born: 1975
Born: January 1
Novelist
Writer
Sydney
NSW
Write
Stories
Character
Writing
Fell
Kind
Writers
Like
Characters
Story
Wish

More quotes by Markus Zusak

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The conversation of bullets.
Markus Zusak
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I guess when someone tells you something they they usually guard, you feel privileged, not because you know something no-one else knows, but because you feel chosen. You feel like that person wants her life to intersect with yours. I think that's what felt best about it.
Markus Zusak
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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.
Markus Zusak
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Sometimes I think my papa is an accordion. When he looks at me and smiles and breathes, I hear the notes.
Markus Zusak
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Living in Sydney, I've taken the chance to start surfing again. One of my best memories of growing up is catching my first proper wave and surfing across it and my brother cheering at me from the shore.
Markus Zusak
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There are so many moments to remember and sometimes I think that maybe we're not really people at all. Maybe moments are what we are.... Sometimes I just survive. But sometimes I stand on the rooftop of my existence, arms stretched out, begging for more.
Markus Zusak
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***A KEY WORD*** Imagined
Markus Zusak
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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.
Markus Zusak
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...and the night is so deep and dark that I wonder if the sun will ever come up.
Markus Zusak
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I s'pose, I can't have it all my own way, can I? You can't drown in a person unless they let you.
Markus Zusak
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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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It's my heart that is tired. A thirteen-year-old heart shouldn't feel like this.
Markus Zusak
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Five hundred souls. I carried them in my fingers, like suitcases. Or I'd throw them over my shoulder. It was only the the children I carried in my arms.
Markus Zusak
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Liesel observed the strangeness of her foster father's eyes. They were made of kindness, and silver.
Markus Zusak
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My voice is like a rumour. I'm not sure if it came out or not, or if it is true.
Markus Zusak
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Soon evening worked its way into the sky, and the city hunched itself down.
Markus Zusak
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Liesel shrugged away entirely from the crowd and entered the tide of Jews, weaving through them till she grabbed hold of his arm with her left hand. His face fell on her. It reached down as she tripped, and the Jew,the nasty Jew, helped her up. It took all of his strength.
Markus Zusak
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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.
Markus Zusak
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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.
Markus Zusak
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When death captures me, the boy vowed, he will feel my fist in his face. (31.26)
Markus Zusak