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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.

Markus Zusak

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Markus Zusak
Age: 49
Born: 1975
Born: January 1
Novelist
Writer
Sydney
NSW
Enjoy
Fringe
Film
Drawn
Character
Teenager
Book
Films
Always
Characters
Think
Writer
Thinking
Alone
Fringes
Books
Loner

More quotes by Markus Zusak

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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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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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There were stars. They burned my eyes.
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The only thing worse than a boy who hates you: a boy that loves you.
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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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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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Even death has a heart.
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You want to know what I truly look like? I'll help you out. Find yourself a mirror while I continue.
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Liesel observed the strangeness of her foster father's eyes. They were made of kindness, and silver.
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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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Make sure you live,' she said. 'As decent as you can. I know you'll make mistakes, but sometimes you're meant to, okay?
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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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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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She could smell the pages. She could almost taste the words as they stacked up around her.
Markus Zusak
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If only she could be so oblivious again, to feel such love without knowing it, mistaking it for laughter.
Markus Zusak
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She was one if the few souls that made me wonder what's it to live.
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My own eyes try to sleep, but they don't. They stay wide awake as time snarls forward and silence drops down, like measured thought.
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How'd it feel? Rube asked himself. I don't know exactly, but it made me want to howl.
Markus Zusak
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The scrawled words of practice stood magnificently on the wall by the stairs, jagged and childlike and sweet. They looked on as both the hidden Jew and the girl slept, hand to shoulder. They breathed. German and Jewish lungs.
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The first couple of times, he simply stayed - a stranger to kill the aloneness. A few nights after that, he whispered “Shhh, I’m here, its alright.” After three weeks, he held her. Trust was accumulated quickly, due primarily to the brute strength of the man’s gentleness, his thereness.
Markus Zusak