I let the front door slam shut behind me and the fly screen rattle. It was as if each door was kicking me out of the old life I'd lived in that house. I was being thrown out into the world, new. The broken, leaning gate creaked open, let me out, and I gently placed it shut. I was gone, and from down the street, maybe fifty yards away, I looked back for a second at the house where I lived. It wasn't the same any more. It never would be. I kept walking.
Markus ZusakMots clés old-life front-door into-the-world leave-home slam-shut thrown-out
It feels like spoken words, this bridge. I want it but fear it. God, I want so desperately to reach the other side - just like I want the words. I want my words to build bridges strong enough to walk on. I want them to tower over the world so I can stand up on them and walk to the other side.
Markus ZusakMots clés words world bridge other-side
I s'pose, I can't have it all my own way, can I? You can't drown in a person unless they let you.
Markus ZusakMots clés drown my-own-way
In that one stolen second, I considered the Glebe girl. She entered my mind like a burglar, them vanished again, taking nothing. It was like the humiliation of the past had been dragged instantly from my back and left somewhere on the ground.
Markus ZusakMots clés thought humiliation burglar entered-my-mind taking-nothing vanished
You ever hear a dog cry, Steve? You know, howling so loud it's almost unbearable?' He nodded. 'I reckon they howl like that because they're so hungry it hurts, and that's what I feel in me every day of my life. I'm so hungry to be somethin' - to be somebody. You hear me?' He did. 'I'm not lyin' down ever. Not for you. Not for anyone.' I ended it. 'I'm hungry, Steve.'
Sometimes I think they're the best words I've ever said.
'I'm hungry.
Mots clés dog howl hungry be-somebody
I told her about school and how I sat on a wall there and felt stories and words move through me ...
Markus ZusakMots clés words school stories
I say, 'Don't lose your heart, Rube.'
And very clearly, without moving, my brother answers me.
He says, 'I'm not tryin' to lose it, Cam. I'm tryin' to find it.
Mots clés don-t-lose-heart trying-to-find-it
It makes me wonder, Do we spend most of our days trying to remember or forget things? Do we spend most of our time running towards or away from our lives? I don't know.
Markus ZusakMots clés time wonder forget remember lives i-don-t-know
They're brainless girls, otherwise they wouldn't be seen dead here. They're pretty, with ugly, appealing smiles and conversations we can't hear. They breathe smoke and blow it out, and words drop from their mouths and get crushed to the floor. Or they get discarded, just to glow with warmth for a moment, for someone else to tread on later.
Markus ZusakMots clés words girls ugly pretty smiles conversations breathe mouths smoke discarded
As we walk back, it feels like the city is engulfing us. Adrenalin still pours through our veins. Sparks flow through to our fingers. We've still been running in the mornings, but the city's different then. It's filled with hope and with bristles of winter sunshine. In the evening, it's like it dies, waiting to be born again the next morning.
Markus ZusakMots clés hope morning born running sunshine city sparks evening walk fingers dies
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