THE LAST WORDS OF MAX VANDENBURG: You've done enough.

So I saw that there was only me. There was only me who could worry about what was happening here, inside these walls of my life. Other people had their own worlds to worry about, and in the end, they had to fend for themselves, just like us.

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.

At first, all is black and white. Black on white. That's where I'm walking, through pages. These pages. Sometimes it gets so that I have one foot in the pages and the words, and the other in what they speak of.

He prefers not to ruin things with any more questions. What it is is what it is.

She was one if the few souls that made me wonder what's it to live.

He watched them grow, until eventually, great forests of words had risen throughout Germany.... It was a nation of farmed thoughts.