You can kill a man with those words. No gun. No bullets. Just words and a girl.

It is early, early morning. It's that time when it's still dark but you know the day is coming. Blue is bleeding through black. Stars are dying.

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

He's most likely robbing the bank as a paycheck on the world for winning the ugliness prize at his local fete three years running.

The paper landed on the table, but the news was stapled to his chest. A tattoo.

… it was raining on Himmel Street when the world ended for Liesel Meminger. The sky was dripping. Like a tap that a child has tried its hardest to turn off but hasn’t quite managed.

How about a kiss, Saumensch?