How'd it feel?" Rube asked himself. "I don't know exactly, but it made me want to howl.
If her soul ever leaks, I want it to land on me.
Like most misery, it started with apparent happiness.
Mystery bores me. It chores me. I know what happens and so do you. It's the machinations that wheel us there that aggravate, perplex, interest, and astound me.
As always, one of her books was next to her.
He was the crazy one who had painted himself black and defeated the world. She was the book thief without the words. Trust me, though, the words were on their way, and when they arrived, Liesel would hold them in her hands like the clouds, and she would wring them out like rain.