Often I wish this would all be over, Liesel, but then somehow you do something like walk down the basement steps with a snowman in your hands.

I can promise you that the world is a factory. The sun stirs it, the humans rule it. And I remain. I carry them away.- spoken by death

A book floated down the Amper River. A boy jumped in, caught up to it, and held it in his right hand. He grinned. He stood waist-deep in the icy, Decemberish water. “How about a kiss, Saumensch?” he said.

But then, is there cowardice in the acknowledgment of fear? Is there cowardice in being glad that you lived?

The days and nights come apart. I feel them corroding at the seams.

She was like a lone angel floating above the surface of the earth, laughing with delight because she could fly but crying out of loneliness.

I think 'The Lord Of The Rings' is the mother of all cult books, because you can be in that cult and not even know you're in it.