It's funny, don't you think, how time seems to do a lot of things? It flies, it tells, and worst of all, it runs out.

It's my heart that is tired. A thirteen-year-old heart shouldn't feel like this.

One was a book thief. The other stole the sky.

So many humans. So many colors.

I'm just another stupid human.

Yes, I know it. In the darkness of my dark beating heart, I know. He'd have loved it alright. You see? Even Death Has A Heart.

Death waits for no man - and if he does, he doesn't usually wait for very long.