Yes, the sky was now a devastating, home-cooked red. The small German town had been flung apart one more time. Snowflakes of ash fell so lovelily you were tempted to stretch out your tongue to catch them, taste them. Only, they would have scorched your lips. They would have cooked your mouth.
Markus ZusakMaybe one morning I’ll wake up and step outside of myself to look back at the old me lying dead among the sheets.
Markus Zusak