The happening that happened was that I met this girl.

The happening that happened was that I met this girl.

Handfuls of frosty water can make almost anyone smile, but it cannot make them forget.

Because you don't learn anything unless you can find the patience to read. TV takes that away from you. It robs you from your mind.

Summer came. For the book thief, everything was going nicely. For me, the sky was the color of Jews. When their bodies had finished scouring for gaps in the door, their souls rose up. When their fingernails had scratched at the wood and in some cases were nailed into it by the sheer force of desperation, their spirits came toward me, into my arms, and we climbed out of those shower facilities, onto the roof and up, into eternity's certain breadth. They just kept feeding me. Minute after minute. Shower after shower.

Somewhere, far down, there was an itch in his heart, but he made it a point not to scratch it. He was afraid of what might come leaking out.

And they would all smile at the beauty of destruction.