The Book Thief Quotes

Quotes tagged as "the-book-thief" Showing 1-30 of 55
Markus Zusak
“She leaned down and looked at his lifeless face and Leisel 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...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...”
Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

Markus Zusak
“I wanted to explain that I am constantly overestimating and underestimating the human race - that rarely do I even 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...I AM HAUNTED BY HUMANS.”
Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

Markus Zusak
“When death captures me," the boy vowed, "he will feel my fist in his face." (31.26)”
Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

Markus Zusak
“Make no mistake, the woman had a heart. She had a bigger one that people would think. There was a lot in it, stored up, high in miles of hidden shelving. Remember that she was the woman with the instrument strapped to her body in the long, moon-slit night.”
Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

Markus Zusak
“He stood a few meters from the step and spoke with great conviction, great joy.
"Alles ist Scheisse," he announced.
All is shit.”
Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

Markus Zusak
“The sky is blue today, Max, and there is a big long cloud, and it's stretched out, like a rope. At the end of it, the sun is
like a yellow hole. . .”
Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

Markus Zusak
“You might well ask just what the hell he was thinking. The answer is, probably nothing at all.He'd probably say he was exercising his God-given right to stupidity.”
Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

Markus Zusak
“Clearly," said Arthur,"you're an idiot- but you're our kind of idiot. Come on.”
Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

Markus Zusak
“After another ten minutes, the gates of thievery would open just a crack, and Liesel Meminger would widen them a little further and squeeze through.

***TWO QUESTIONS***
Would the gates shut behind her?
Or would they have the goodwill to let her back out?

As Liesel would discover, a good thief requires many things.
Stealth. Nerve. Speed.
More important than any of those things, however, was one final requirement.
Luck.

Actually.
Forget the ten minutes.
The gates open now.”
Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

Markus Zusak
“Oh, come on, Arthur."
"I don't want to hear it, Andy."
"Jesus Christ"
"He doesn't want to hear it, either.”
Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

Markus Zusak
“Papa sat with me tonight. He brought the accordion down and sat close to where Max used to sit. I often look at his fingers and face when he plays. the accordion breathes. There are lines on his cheeks. They look drawn on, and for some reason, when I see them, I want to cry. It is not for any sadness or pride. I just like the way they move and change. Sometimes I think my papa is an accordion. When he looks at me and smiles and breathes, I hear the notes.”
Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

“If your eyes could speak, what would they say”
Max Vandenburg "The Book Thief"

Markus Zusak
“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 Zusak, The Book Thief

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

Markus Zusak
“Don’t make me happy. Please, don’t fill me up and let me think that something good can come of any of this. Look at my bruises. Look at this graze. Do you see the graze inside me? Do you see it growing before your very eyes, eroding me? I don’t want to hope for anything anymore.”
markus zusak

Markus Zusak
“She walked down the basement steps. She saw an imaginary framed photo seep into the wall - a quiet-smiled secret. No more than a few meters, it was a long walk to the drop sheets and the assortment of paint cans that shielded Max Vandenburg. She removed the sheets closest to the wall until there was a small corridor to look through. The first part of him she saw was his shoulder, and through the slender gap, she slowly, painfully, inched her hand in until it rested there. His clothing was cool. He did not wake.
She could feel his breathing and his shoulder moving up and down ever so slightly. For a while, she watched him. Then she sat and leaned back.
Sleepy air seemed to have followed her.
The scrawled words of practice stood magnificently on the wall by the stairs, jagged and childlike and sweet. They looked on as both the hidden Jew and the girl slept, hand to shoulder.
They breathed.
German and Jewish lungs.”
Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

Markus Zusak
“Her teeth were like a soccer crowd, crammed in.”
Zusak Markus, The Book Thief

Markus Zusak
“An attribute of Rosa Hubermann, she was a good woman for a crisis.”
Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

Markus Zusak
“Sometimes I arrive too early. I rush, and some people cling longer to life than expected.”
Marcus Zusak

Markus Zusak
“Había una vez un hombre bajito y extraño que decidió tres cosas importantes acerca de su vida:
1. Que se haría la raya del pelo en el lado contrario a todos los demás.
2. Que se dejaría un pequeño y extraño bigote.
3. Que un día dominaría el mundo.”
Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

Markus Zusak
“She was a Jew feeder without a question in the world on that man's first night in Molching. She was an arm reacher, deep into a mattress, to deliver a sketchbook to a teenage girl. (84.25)”
Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

Markus Zusak
“There were heavy beams - planks of sun - falling randomly, wonderfully, onto the road. Clouds arched their backs to lok behind as they started again to move on. 'It's such a beautiful day,' he said, and his voice was in many pieces. A great day to die. A great day to die, like this.”
Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

Markus Zusak
“*** A SMALL ANNOUNCEMENT ***
ABOUT RUDY STEINER
He didn't deserve to die the way he did.”
Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

Markus Zusak
“How many times did she have to say goodbye?”
Markus Zusak

Markus Zusak
“She enjoyed the small fragments of pain.”
Markus Zusak

Markus Zusak
“*** A SMALL ANNOUNCEMENT ***
***ABOUT RUDY STEINER***
He didn't deserve to die the way he did.”
Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

Markus Zusak
“Where Hans Hubermann and Erik Vandenburg were ultimately united by music, Max and Liesel were held together by the quiet gathering of words.”
Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

Markus Zusak
“First the colors.
Then the humans.
That's usually how I see things.
Or at least, how I try.
***HERE IS A SMALL FACT***
You are going to die.”
Markus Zusak

Markus Zusak
“Did the Führer take her (mother) away?”
The question surprised them both, and it forced Papa to stand up. He looked at
the brown-shirted men taking to the pile of ash with shovels. He could hear them
hacking into it. Another lie was growing in his mouth, but he found it impossible
to let it out. He said, “I think he might have, yes.”
“I knew it.” The words were thrown at the steps and Liesel could feel the
slush of anger, stirring hotly in her stomach. “I hate the Führer,” she said. “I hate
him.”
And Hans Hubermann?
What did he do?
What did he say?
Did he bend down and embrace his foster daughter, as he wanted to? Did he
tell her that he was sorry for what was happening to her, to her mother, for what
had happened to her brother?
Not exactly.
He clenched his eyes. Then opened them. He slapped Liesel Meminger
squarely in the face.
“Don’t ever say that!” His voice was quiet, but sharp.
As the girl shook and sagged on the steps, he sat next to her and held his face
in his hands. It would be easy to say that he was just a tall man sitting poorpostured
and shattered on some church steps, but he wasn’t. At the time, Liesel
had no idea that her foster father, Hans Hubermann, was contemplating one of
the most dangerous dilemmas a German citizen could face. Not only that, he’d
been facing it for close to a year.
“Papa?”
The surprise in her voice rushed her, but it also rendered her useless. She
wanted to run, but she couldn’t. She could take a Watschen from nuns and Rosas,
but it hurt so much more from Papa. The hands were gone from Papa’s face now
and he found the resolve to speak again.
“You can say that in our house,” he said, looking gravely at Liesel’s cheek.
“But you never say it on the street, at school, at the BDM, never!” He stood in
front of her and lifted her by the triceps. He shook her. “Do you hear me?”
With her eyes trapped wide open, Liesel nodded her compliance.
It was, in fact, a rehearsal for a future lecture, when all of Hans Hubermann’s
worst fears arrived on Himmel Street later that year, in the early hours of a
November morning.
“Good.” He placed her back down. “Now, let us try …” At the bottom of the
steps, Papa stood erect and cocked his arm. Forty-five degrees. “Heil Hitler.”
Liesel stood up and also raised her arm. With absolute misery, she repeated it.
“Heil Hitler.” It was quite a sight—an eleven-year-old girl, trying not to cry on
the church steps, saluting the Führer as the voices over Papa’s shoulder chopped
and beat at the dark shape in the background.”
Mark Zusak

Markus Zusak
“Whenever they had a break, to eat or drink, he would play the accordion, and it was this that Liesel remembered best. Each morning, while Papa pushed or dragged the paint cart, Liesel carried the instrument. "Better that we leave the paint behind," Hans told her, "than ever forget the music.”
Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

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