The Germans in basements were pitiable, surely, but at least they had a chance. That basement was not a washroom. They were not sent there for a shower. For those people, life was still achievable.
Markus ZusakTag: the-book-thief
in the trees this afternoon, he was a giver of bread and teddy bears.
Markus ZusakSon, you can't go around painting yourself black, you hear?"
"Why not, Papa?"
"Because they'll take you away."
"Why?"
"Because you shouldn't want to be like black people or Jewish people or anyone who is...not us."
"Who are Jewish people?"
"You know my oldest customer, Mr. Kaufmann? Where we bought your shoes?"
"Yes."
"Well, he's Jewish."
"I didn't know that. Do you have to pay to be Jewish? Do you need a license?"
.....
"...you've got beautiful blond hair and big safe blue eyes. You should be happy with that; is that clear?
Tag: history
I’m Angelina,” she says. “Are you here to save us?” I can see a tiny spark of hope awaken in her eyes.
“You’re right, Angelina - I’m here to save you.”
“Can you? Really?”
“I’ll try,” I say and the girl smiles.
Tag: save
I want words at my funeral. But I guess that means you need life in your life.
Markus ZusakI am haunted by humans.
Markus ZusakHer teeth were like a soccer crowd, crammed in.
Markus ZusakTag: the-book-thief
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E não sou muito boa nessa história de consolar, especialmente quando tenho as mãos frias e a cama é quente. Carreguei-o com delicadeza pela rua destroçada, com sal nos olhos e o coração mortalmente pesado. Observei por um instante o conteúdo de sua alma, e vi um menino pintado de preto, gritando o nome de Jesse Owens ao cruzar uma fita de chegada imaginária. Vi-o afundado até os quadris em água gelada, perseguindo um livro, e vi um garoto deitado na cama, imaginando que gosto teria um beijo de sua gloriosa vizinha do lado. Ele mexe comigo, esse garoto. Sempre. É sua única desvantagem. Ele pisoteia meu coração. Ele me faz chorar.
Markus ZusakUsually we walk around constantly believing ourselves. "I'm okay" we say. "I'm alright". But sometimes the truth arrives on you and you can't get it off. That's when you realize that sometimes it isn't even an answer--it's a question. Even now, I wonder how much of my life is convinced.
Markus ZusakTag: truth
I wanted to tell the book thief many things, about beauty and brutality. But what could I tell her about those things that she didn't already know? I wanted to explain that I am constantly overestimating and underestimating the human race-that rarely do I ever simply estimate it. I wanted to ask her how the same thing could be so ugly and so glorious, and its words and stories so damning and brilliant.
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