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. Donโt make me happy. Please, donโt fill me up and let me think that something good can come of any of this.
Markus Zusakโฆ 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 hasnโt quite managed.
Markus ZusakIf you can't imagine it, think clumsy silence. Think bits and pieces of floating despair. And drowning in a train.
Markus ZusakShe said it out loud, the words distributed into a room that was full of cold air and books. Books everywhere! Each wall was armed with overcrowded yet immaculate shelving. It was barely possible to see paintwork. There were all different styles and sizes of lettering on the spines of the black, the red, the gray, the every-colored books. It was one of the most beautiful things Liesel Meminger had ever seen. With wonder, she smiled. That such a room existed!
Markus Zusak