The paper landed on the table, but the news was stapled to his chest. A tattoo.

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

...one opportunity leads directly to another, just as risk leads to more risk, life to more life, and death to more death.

An eleven-year-old girl is many things, but she is not stupid.

There are two magic acts I want to pull off when I write. One is creating a feeling that when you're inside a book, you believe everything you're reading even when you know it's not true. And the second is an extension of that, which is you know it's not true, you know it's not real, but you believe it anyway. And it's that believing of the story that isn't real that attracted me to writing and storytelling in general.

***A KEY WORD*** Imagined

She was battered and beaten up, and not smiling this time. Liesel could see it on her face. Blood leaked from her nose and licked at her lips. Her eyes had blackened. Cuts had opened up and a series of wounds were rising to the surface of her skin. All from the words. From Liesel's words.