After another ten minutes, the gates of thievery would open just a crack, and Liesel Meminger would widen them a little further and squeeze through. ***TWO QUESTIONS*** Would the gates shut behind her? Or would they have the goodwill to let her back out? As Liesel would discover, a good thief requires many things. Stealth. Nerve. Speed. More important than any of those things, however, was one final requirement. Luck. Actually. Forget the ten minutes. The gates open now.
Markus ZusakThe night is alive with stars, and when I lie down and look up, I get lost up there. I feel like Iโm falling, but upward, into the abyss of sky above me.
Markus ZusakI think to be writer you have to enjoy being alone. I was a loner as a teenager and was always drawn to characters in books and films who were at the fringes.
Markus ZusakWhy canโt the world hear? I ask myself. Within a few moments I ask it many times. Because it doesnโt care, I finally answer, and I know Iโm right. Itโs like Iโve been chosen. But chosen for what? I ask.
Markus ZusakSo many humans. So many colours. They keep triggering inside me. They harass my memory. I see them tall in their heaps, all mounted on top of each other. There is air like plastic, a horizon like setting glue. There are skies manufactured by people, punctured and leaking, and there are soft, coal-coloured clouds, beating, like black hearts. And then. There is death. Making his way through all of it. On the surface: unflappable, unwavering. Below: unnerved, untied, and undone.
Markus Zusak