She was saying goodbye and she didn't even know it.

You might argue that I make the rounds no matter what year it is, but sometimes the human race likes to crank things up a little. They increase the production of bodies and their escaping souls.

I try hard and aim big. People can hate or love my books but they can never accuse me of not trying.

Liesel's blood had dried inside of her. It crumbled. She almost broke into pieces on the steps.

She was a Jew feeder without a question in the world on that man's first night in Molching. She was an arm reacher, deep into a mattress, to deliver a sketchbook to a teenage girl. (84.25)

Please, trust me, I most definitely can be cheerful. I can be amiable. Agreeable. Affable. And that's only the A's. Just don't ask me to be nice. Nice has nothing to do with me.

So many humans. So many colors.