He was tall in the bed and I could see the silver through his eyelids. His soul sat up. It met me. Those kinds of souls always do—the best ones. The ones who rise up and say, “I know who you are and I am ready. Not that I want to go, of course, but I will come.” Those souls are always light because more of them have been put out. More of them have already found their way to other places. This one was sent out by the breath of an accordion, the odd taste of champagne in summer, and the art of promise-keeping. He lay in my arms and rested. There was an itchy lung for a last cigarette and an immense, magnetic pull toward the basement, for the girl who was his daughter and was writing a book down there that he hoped to read one day.
Markus ZusakTag: kindle-edition p-531-532
The question is, what color will everything be at that moment when I come for you? What will the sky be saying?
Markus ZusakShe leaned down and looked at his lifeless face and Liesel kissed her best friend, Rudy Steiner, soft and true on his lips. He tasted dusty and sweet. He tasted like regret in the shadows of trees and in the glow of the anarchist’s suit collection. She kissed him long and soft, and when she pulled herself away, she touched his mouth with her fingers. Her hands were trembling, her lips were fleshy, and she leaned in once more, this time losing control and misjudging it. Their teeth collided on the demolished world of Himmel Street. She did not say goodbye. She was incapable, and after a few more minutes at his side, she was able to tear herself from the ground. It amazes me what humans can do, even when streams are flowing down their faces and they stagger on, coughing and searching, and finding.
Markus ZusakHandfuls of frosty water can make almost anyone smile, but it cannot make them forget.
Markus ZusakOnly hearts... They're in the inside of the inside of me.
Markus ZusakThe human child – so much cannier at times than the stupefyingly ponderous adult.
Markus ZusakStars of David were plastered to their shirts, and misery was attached to them as if assigned. "Don't forget your misery..." In some cases, it grew on them like a vine.
Markus ZusakOr had she always loved him? It's likely. Restricted as she was from speaking, she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to drag her hand across and pull her over. It didn't matter where. Her mouth, her neck, her cheek. Her skin was empty for it, waiting.
Markus ZusakThe notes were born on her breath, and they died at her lips.
Markus ZusakCould she smell my breath? Could she hear my cursed circular heart beat revolving like the crime it is in my deathly chest?
Markus ZusakTag: death
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