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.
Markus ZusakMax lifted his head, with great sorrow and great astonishment. 'There were stars,' He said. 'They burned my eyes.โ ...from a Himmel street window, he wrote, the stars set fire to my eyes.
Markus ZusakRosa Hubermann was sitting on the edge of the bed with her husband's accordion tied to her chest. Her fingers hovered above the keys. She did not move. She didn't ever appear to be breathing.
Markus ZusakIt brewed in her as she eyed the pages full to the brims of their bellies with paragraphs and words. You bastards, she thought. You lovely bastards. Donโt make me happy. Please, donโt fill me up and let me think that something good can come of any of this.
Markus ZusakWhat would you do if you were me? Tell me. Please tell me! But you're far from this. Your fingers turn the strangeness of these pages that somehow connect my life to yours. Your eyes are safe. The story is just another few hundred pages of your mind. For me, it's here. It's now. I have to go through with this, considering the cost at every turn. Nothing will be the same.
Markus Zusak