Markus Zusak Quotes

Like most misery, it started with apparent happiness.

I have to say that although it broke my heart, I was, and still am, glad I was there.

Only in today's sick society can a man be persecuted for reading too many books.

I guess that’s the beauty of books. When they finish they don’t really finish.

Please, trust me, I most definitely can be cheerful. I can be amiable. Agreeable. Affable. And that's only the A's. Just don't ask me to be nice. Nice has nothing to do with me.

Do we spend most of our days trying to remember or to forget? Do we spend most of our time running towards or away from our lives?

Maybe everyone can live beyond what they're capable of.

It's not a big thing, but I guess it's true--big things are often just small things that are noticed.

A fighter can be a winner, but that doesn't make a winner a fighter.

The night is alive with stars, and when I lie down and look up, I get lost up there. I feel like I’m falling, but upward, into the abyss of sky above me.

The injury of words. Yes, the brutality of words.

You’re a human, you should understand self-obsession.

I want words at my funeral. But I guess that means you need life in your life.

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.

It's funny, don't you think, how time seems to do a lot of things? It flies, it tells, and worst of all, it runs out.

They'd been standing like that for thirty seconds of forever.

I always marvel at the humans' ability to keep going. They always manage to stagger on even with tears streaming down their faces.

I guess humans like to watch a little destruction. Sand castles, houses of cards, that's where they begin. Their great skills is their capacity to escalate.

I certainly wasn't born with creative writing. Maybe there's a certain amount of learning and then it's up to the person. I think in the end it's your favourite books that are the best teachers. That's the way I've learned the most, by far.

When her hands reached out and poured the tea, it was as if she also poured something into me while I sat there sweating in my cab. It was like she held a string and pulled on it just slightly to open me up. She got in, put a piece of herself inside me, and left again.

Sometimes you read a book so special that you want to carry it around with you for months after you've finished just to stay near it.

Maybe one morning I’ll wake up and step outside of myself to look back at the old me lying dead among the sheets.

When she came to write her story, she would wonder when the books and the words started to mean not just something, but everything.

Somewhere, far down, there was an itch in his heart, but he made it a point not to scratch it. He was afraid of what might come leaking out.

She was like a lone angel floating above the surface of the earth, laughing with delight because she could fly but crying out of loneliness.