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Kindle Notes & Highlights
There was the chaos of goodbye.
No matter how many times she was told that she was loved, there was no recognition that the proof was in the abandonment.
Liesel observed the strangeness of her foster father’s eyes. They were made of kindness, and silver. Like soft silver, melting.
Trust was accumulated quickly, due primarily to the brute strength of the man’s gentleness, his thereness.
THE ONLY THING WORSE THAN A BOY WHO HATES YOU A boy who loves you.
one opportunity leads directly to another, just as risk leads to more risk, life to more life, and death to more death.
It’s a lot easier, she realised, to be on the verge of something than to actually be it.
the guilt was already there. It was moist. The seed was already bursting into a dark-leafed flower.
She sang a song but it was so quiet that Liesel could not make it out. The notes were born on her breath, and they died at her lips.
‘There were stars,’ he said. ‘They burned my eyes.’
They watched the Jews come down the road like a catalogue of colours.
Humans, if nothing else, have the good sense to die.
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.
