Зузак, Маркус цитаты

страница 6

“She was one if the few souls that made me wonder what's it to live.”

“When he moves, a streetlight stabs him, and the words flow out like blood.”

“Tears were frozen to the book theif's face.”

“There are moments when you can only stand and stare, watching the world forget you as you remove yourself from it - when you overcome it and cease to exist as the person you were.”

“I'm asking you, I'm begging you, could you please shut your mouth for just five minutes?"
You can imagine the reaction. They ended up in the basement.”

“The human child – so much cannier at times than the stupefyingly ponderous adult.”

“Crowds of questions stream through me like lines of people exiting a soccer ground or a concert. They push and shove and trip. Some make their way around. Some remain in their seats, waiting for their opportunity.”

“July 24, 6:03 A. M.
The laundry was warm and the rafters were firm, and Michael Holzapfel jumped from the chair as if it were a cliff…
Michael Holzapfel knew what he was doing.
He killed himself for wanting to live.”

“Max lifted his head, with great sorrow and great astonishment.
'There were stars,' He said. 'They burned my eyes.’
… from a Himmel street window, he wrote, the stars set fire to my eyes.”

“It's about glowing lights and small things that are big.”

“I can promise you that the world is a factory.  The sun stirs it, the humans rule it.  And I remain.  I carry them away.- spoken by death”

“If you can't imagine it, think clumsy silence. Think bits and pieces of floating despair. And drowning in a train.”

“She rubbed her eyes, and after a long study of his face, she spoke
"Is it really you?"
Is it from your cheek, she thought, that I took the seed?
The man nodded.
His heart wobbled and he held tighter to the branches.
It is.”

“It felt as though the whole globe was dressed in snow. Like it has pulled it on, the way you pull on a sweater. Next to the train line, footprints were sunken to their shins. Trees wore blankets of ice.
As you may expect, someone has died.”

“Just be patient, she told herself, and with the mounting pages, the strength of her writing fist grew.”

“How do you tell if something's alive? You check for breathing.”

“Papa was a man with silver eyes, not dead ones.
Papa was an accordion!
But his bellows were all empty.
Nothing went in and nothing came out.”

“As always, she was carrying the washing. Rudy was carrying two buckets of cold water, or as he put it, two buckets of future ice.”

“If your eyes could speak, what would they say?.”

“Summer came.
For the books thief, everything was going nicely.
For me, the sky was the color of Jews.”

“Clearly, I see it.
I was just about to leave when I found her kneeling there.
A mountain range of rubble was written, designed, erected around her. She was clucthing at a book.”

“I'd been in love with her for years. I never left this suburban town. I didn't go to university. I went to Audrey.”

“A NICE THOUGHT
One was a book thief.
The other stole the sky.”

“She places her hands around my neck and rests her head on my shoulder. I can smell the sex on her, and my hope is that she can smell the love on me.”

“Everything was good.
But it was awful, too.”

“It's my heart that is tired. A thirteen-year-old heart shouldn't feel like this.”

“I feel the fear, but I walk fast toward it.”

“Personally, I quite like that. Such stupid gallantry.
Yes. I like that a lot.”

“The words. Why did they have to exist? Without them, there wouldn’t be any of this. Without words, the Führer was nothing. There would be no limping prisoners, no need for consolation or wordly tricks to make us feel better. What good were the words?”