Markus Zusak quotes: wise famous quotes, sayings and quotations by Markus Zusak

Markus Zusak Famous Quotes & Sayings

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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.

On quite a few occasions Liesel forgot about her mother and any other problem of which she currently held ownership.

god bless the man with the beard, the missing teeth and the poverty Ritchie

She places her hands around my neck and rests her head on my shoulder. I can smell the sex on her, and my hope is that she can smell the love on me.

An attribute of Rosa Hubermann, she was a good woman for a crisis.

Say something enough times and you never forget it.

Like most misery, it started with an apparent happiness

The song was born on her breathe and died at her lips.

I called back, but not loud enough, probably. I don't like making noise in public

I told her about school and how I sat on a wall there and felt stories and words move through me ...

Something I'd like to be perfect at? ... Loving you,' I said. The words climbed from my mouth. 'I'd want to be perfect at loving you.

But sometimes the truth arrives on you, and you can't get it off. That's when you realize that sometimes it isn't even an answer
it's a question.

When a person's last response was Saumensch or Saukerl or Arschloch, you knew you had them beaten.

According to her, all her kids have done quite well except me,

How could she ever know that someone would pick her story up and carry it with him everywhere?

In the darkness of my dark-beating heart, I know. He'd have loved it, all right.

His eyes were cold and brown - like coffee stains ...

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.

She was holding desperately on to the words that had saved her life.

She could only hope they could read the depth of sorrow in her face, to recognize that it was true, and not fleeting.

It was the beginning of the greatest Christmas ever. Little food. No presents. But there was a snowman in their basement.

For two days I went about my business. I travelled the globe as always, handing souls to the conveyor belt of eternity.

What?!" Tommy shouted. His face twitched

I think 'The Lord Of The Rings' is the mother of all cult books, because you can be in that cult and not even know you're in it.

Goodbye, Papa, you saved me. You taught me to read. No one can play like you. I'll never drink champagne. No one can play like you.
-Liesel

I am hunted by humans

She gave 'The Dream Carrier' to Max as if words alone could nourish him.

Could she smell my breath? Could she hear my cursed circular heart beat revolving like the crime it is in my deathly chest?

Mistakes, mistakes, it's all I seem capable of at times.

People die of broken hearts. They have heart attacks. And it's the heart that hurts most when things go wrong and fall apart.

Is it from your cheek that I took the seed?

Beautiful women are the torment of my existence.

Without words, the Fuhrer was nothing.

You don't always get what you wish for. Especially in Nazi Germany

Soon evening worked its way into the sky, and the city hunched itself down.

I'd been in love with her for years. I never left this suburban town. I didn't go to university. I went to Audrey.

She kept watching the words.

He does something to me, that boy. Every time. It's his only detriment. He steps on my heart. He makes me cry.

And I stop listening to me, because to put it bluntly, I tire me.

untangled him and carried him out. High above

The words. Why did they have to exist? Without them, there wouldn't be any of this.

I have to say that although it broke my heart, I was, and still am, glad I was there.

One sat painfully now, among the falling chunks of rain, and the other stood next to her, waiting.

Big things are often just little things that people notice.

Walk into the living room (which doubled as the Hubermanns' bedroom), pull the accordion

It feels like the mornings clap their hands.
To make me wake.

I'm still standing here. Okay, it's a crummy front porch I stand on, cracked to shithouse, and who am I to say that the world isn't the same?

I think she ate a salad and some soup. And loneliness. She ate that, too.

It would then be brought abruptly to an end, for the brightness had shown suffering the way.

How many people get this chance?
And of those few, how many actually take it?

It amazes me what humans can do, even when streams are flowing down their faces and they stagger on, coughing and searching, and finding.

It was a Monday and they walked on a tightrope to the sun.

All my friends seem to be smart arses. Don't ask me why. Like many things, it is what it is.

I am stupid" Hans Hubermann told his foster daughter " And kind, which makes me the biggest idiot in the world.

One wild card was yet to be played.

Herr Vogel from Heide Strasse. Made all his money from his father. He throws it away on women

The last thing I wanted was to look down at the stranded face of my teenager. A pretty girl. Her whole death was now ahead of her.

He stood a few meters from the step and spoke with great conviction, great joy.
"Alles ist Scheisse," he announced.
All is shit.

It was November 3 and the floor of the train held onto his feet

The bittersweetness of uncertainty: To win or to lose.

I'm afraid, of falling asleep again.

Outside is dark.
The kitchen light is loud.
It deafens me as I walk towards it.

Her fingertips are made of love. When she speaks, her voice is made of love.

He left Himmel Street wearing his hangover and a suit.

The bombs were coming-and so was I.

He'd wanted to show his past tormentor what he was capable of, but he also wanted to prove himself to everyone. Now everyone was in the kitchen.

That's typically what writers do; we just sit around complaining most of the time. And the better things are going, the more they complain.

He was tall and abrupt and exactly the kind of guy you wanted to be walking the streets with.

It's hard to not like a man who not only notices the colors, but speaks them.

Nothing changed the fact that she was a lost, skinny child in another foreign place, with more foreign people. Alone.

It's also worthy of mention that every pattern has at least one small bias, and one day it will tip itself over or fall from one page to another.

The moon was undone now, free to move and rise and fall and drip on the boy's face, making him nice and murky, like his thoughts.

Because deep down you know that this small piece of changing fortune is a signal of things to come.

The day was gray, the color of Europe.

Mama's eyes were like pale blue cutouts, pasted to her face.

That was when the world wasn't so big and I could see everywhere. It was when my father was a hero and not a human.

There would be punishment and pain, and there would be happiness, too. That was writing.

I wanted to ask her how the same thing could be so ugly and so glorious, and its words so damning and brilliant.

I have hated words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right.

I did it because you are the epitome of ordinariness.

When life robs you, sometimes, you have to rob it back.

A day merges through a multitude of shades and intonations, with each passing moment.

He was into the skating culture now and I was into, well, I'm not sure what I was into. I was into roaming around on my own, and I enjoyed it.

The only thing worse than a boy who hates you: a boy that loves you.

She wanted none of those days to end, and it was always with disappointment that she watched the darkness stride forward.

Fingers touch the pages. They turn me. I continue on. I always do. All is big. The

Duden Dictionary Meaning #2
Verzeihung - Forgiveness: to stop feeling anger, animosity, or resentment.

I see their ugly and their beauty, and wonder how the same thing can be both.

A beautiful, tear-stomped girl,shaking the dead.

She was a girl. In Nazi Germany. How fitting that she was discovering the power of words

The dilemma, of course, is that such people save their most important words for after, when the surrounding humans are unlucky enough to find them.

Imagine smiling after a slap in the face. Then think of doing it twenty-four hours a day.

The silence was always the greates temptation.

How do you tell if someone is alive? You check for breathing.

a letter to her for? You have to put up with her every day." Papa was schmunzel

Eleven-year-old paranoia was powerful. Eleven-year-old relief was euphoric.

He was hanging from one of the rafters in a laundry up near Frau Diller's. Another human pendulum. Another clock, stopped.

Like most misery, it started with apparent happiness.

It's all very well for such a person to whine and moan and criticize other family members, but they won't let anyone else do it.

I didn't know words could be so heavy.