People die of broken hearts. They have heart attacks. And it's the heart that hurts most when things go wrong and fall apart.

It brewed in her as she eyed the pages full to the brims of their bellies with paragraphs and words. You bastards, she thought. You lovely bastards. Don’t make me happy. Please, don’t fill me up and let me think that something good can come of any of this.

20 minutes later: a girl on Himmel Street. She looks up. She speaks in whisper. 'The sky is soft today, Max. The clouds are so soft and sad, and...' She looks away and crosses her arms. She thinks of her papa going to war and grabs her jacket at each side of her body. 'And it's cold, Max. It's so cold.

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.

My voice is like a rumour. I'm not sure if it came out or not, or if it is true.

It's hard to not like a man who not only notices the colors, but speaks them

They were French, they were Jews, and they were you.