Only in today's sick society can a man be persecuted for reading too many books.

As we walk back, it feels like the city is engulfing us. Adrenalin still pours through our veins. Sparks flow through to our fingers. We've still been running in the mornings, but the city's different then. It's filled with hope and with bristles of winter sunshine. In the evening, it's like it dies, waiting to be born again the next morning.

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

You can't eat books, sweetheart.

I had to decide what I was going to do, and what I was going to be. I was standing there, waiting for someone to do something , till I realised the person I was waiting for was myself.

Can a wolfe be beautiful?

Everything was good. But it was awful, too.