Even death has a heart.

Yes, I know it. In the darkness of my dark beating heart, I know. He'd have loved it alright. You see? Even Death Has A Heart.

One was a book thief. The other stole the sky.

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

A snowball in the face is surely the perfect beginning to a lasting friendship.

As she watched all of this, Liesel was certain that these were the poorest souls alive. That's what she wrote about them . . . Some looked appealingly at those who had come to observe their humiliation, this prelude to their deaths. Others pleaded for someone, anyone to step forward and catch them in their arms. No one did.

Why me?' I ask God. God says nothing. I laugh and the stars watch. It's good to be alive.