If her soul ever leaks, I want it to land on me.

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.

Each night, Liesel would step outside, wipe the door, and watch the sky. Usually it was like spillage - cold and heavy, slippery and gray - but once in a while some stars had the nerve to rise and float, if only for a few minutes. On those nights, she would stay a little longer and wait. Hello, stars.

Sometimes I think my papa is an accordion. When he looks at me and smiles and breathes, I hear the notes.

It’s a small story really, about, among other things: * A girl * Some words * An accordionist * Some fanatical Germans * A Jewish fist fighter * And quite a lot of thievery

Have you ever noticed that idiots have a lot of friends? It's just an observation.

Humans have a talent for escalation. -Death