Tears were frozen to the book theif's face.

Yes, I know it. In the darkness of my dark beating heart, I know. He'd have loved it alright. You see? Even Death Has A Heart.

The commitment had disappeared, and although he still watched the imagined glory of stealing, she could see now he was not believing. He was trying to believe it, and that’s never a good sign.

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

Something I'd like to be perfect at? ... Loving you,' I said. The words climbed from my mouth. 'I'd want to be perfect at loving you.

Of course you're real-like any thought or any story. It's real when you're in it.

You're far from this. This story is just another few hundred pages of your mind.