And when we finally stood up and turned to face the world, I could feel something climbing through me. I could feel it on its hands and knees inside me, rising up, rising up - and I smiled.
I smiled, thinking, The hunger, because I knew it all too well.
The hunger.
The desire.
Then, slowly, as we walked on, I felt the beauty of it, and I could taste it, like words inside my mouth.
Mots clés words beauty taste mouth hunger feel
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.
Markus ZusakMots clés perfect loving-you
I could smell something. Fear.
I could taste it now.
It tasted like blood in my mouth, and I could feel it slide through me and open me up when I saw him ...
Mots clés fear taste mouth blood smell
I've wandered through the real world, and written myself through the darkness of the streets inside me. I see people walking through the city and wonder where they've been, and what the moments of their lives have done to them. If they're anything like me, their moments have held them up and shot them down.
Sometimes I just survive.
But sometimes I stand on the rooftop of my existence, arms stretched out, begging for more.
That's when the stories show up in me.
They find me all the time.
They're made of underdogs and fighters. They're made of hunger and desire and trying to live decent.
The only trouble is, I don't know which of those stories comes first.
Maybe they all just merge into one.
We'll see, I guess.
I'll let you know when I decide.
Mots clés stories wonder desire hunger city written streets real-world fighters underdogs
He’s fighting the world.” And now, I watch as the underdog in the middle of the circle fights on and stands and falls and returns to his haunches and feet and fights on again. He fights on, no matter how hard he hits the ground. He gets up. Some people cheer him. Others laugh now and rubbish him.
Feeling comes out of me.
I watch.
My eyes swell, and burn.
“Can he win?”
I ask it, and now, I too cannot take my eyes off the boy in the circle.
So ein Typ war er. Ruben Wolf. Wenn er am Leben war, war er okay.
Markus ZusakI even move out onto the front porch and see my own limited view of the world. I want to take that world, and for the first time ever, I feel like I can do it. I’ve survived everything I’ve had to so far. I’m still standing here.
Markus ZusakКолкото и пъти да й кажеха, че е обичана, тя никога нямаше да приеме изоставянето като доказателство.
Markus ZusakКогато се зае да пише своята история, тя се питаше кога точно книгите и думите са започнали да означават не просто нещо, а всичко.
Markus ZusakТой беше лудият, който се беше боядисал в черно, нанасяйки поражение на света.
Тя беше крадецът на книги без думи.
...думите бяха на път и когато пристигнеха, тя щеше да ги държи в ръцете си като облаци и щеше да ги изстисква като дъжд.
« ; premier précédent
Page 50 de 73.
suivant dernier » ;
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.