Papa sat with me tonight. He brought the accordion down and sat close to where Max used to sit. I often look at his fingers and face when he plays. the accordion breathes. There are lines on his cheeks. They look drawn on, and for some reason, when I see them, I want to cry. It is not for any sadness or pride. I just like the way they move and change. Sometimes I think my papa is an accordion. When he looks at me and smiles and breathes, I hear the notes.

I feel the fear, but I walk fast toward it.

That was when the world wasn't so big and I could see everywhere. It was when my father was a hero and not a human.

Liesel observed the strangeness of her foster father's eyes. They were made of kindness, and silver.

Max lifted his head, with great sorrow and great astonishment. 'There were stars,' He said. 'They burned my eyes.’ ...from a Himmel street window, he wrote, the stars set fire to my eyes.

Sometimes you read a book so special that you want to carry it around with you for months after you've finished just to stay near it.

THE LAST WORDS OF MAX VANDENBURG: You've done enough.