Markus Zusak

There were people everywhere on the city street, but the stranger could not have been more alone if it were empty.

Awkward.That's exactly how it was when we walked over to our sister and stood on each side of her, looking at her and feeling things and not knowing what to do.

In truth, I think he was afraid. Rudy Steiner was scared of the book thief's kiss. He must have longed for it so much. He must have loved her so incredibly hard. So that he would never ask for her lips again and would go to his grave without them.

When death tells a story yo really have to listen

Do you have to pay to be Jewish? Do you need a licence?

One good punch from Rube on me would send the sky into my head and the clouds into my lungs. I just always tried to stay up.

It's pathetic how a man can stand by and do nothing as a whole nation cleans out the garbage and makes itself great"-Hans Junior

It__ chaos out there, and chaos is what we need.

It's lucky I was there. Then again, who am I kidding? I'm in most places at least once, and in 1943, I was just about everywhere.

The question is, what colour will everything be at that moment when I come for you? What will the sky be saying?

My mouth opened.It happened.Yes, with my head thrown into the sky, I started howling.Arms stretched out next to me, I howled, and everything came out of me. Visions pored up my throat and past voices surrounded me. The sky listened. The city didn't. I didn't care. All I cared about was that I was howling so that I could hear my voice and so I would remember that the boy had intensity and something to offer. I howled, oh, so loud and desperate, telling a world that I was here and I wouldn't lie down.

The city buildings in the distance are holding up the sky, it seems.

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

The moon was sewn into the sky that night

I wanted nothing for free.Nothing came for free at our place anyway.

You might well ask just what the hell he was thinking. The answer is, probably nothing at all.He'd probably say he was exercising his God-given right to stupidity.

The sky is blue today, Max, and there is a big long cloud, and it's stretched out, like a rope. At the end of it, the sun is like a yellow hole..." Max, at that moment, knew that only a child could have given him a weather report like that. On the wall, he painted a long, tightly knotted rope with a dripping yellow sun at the end of it, as if you could dive right into it. On the ropy cloud, he drew two figures-a thin girl and a withering Jew-and they were walking, arms balanced, toward that dripping sun.

Shadows of cloud lurked in the water, like holes the sun forgot about.