Rosa Hubermann was sitting on the edge of the bed with her husband's accordion tied to her chest. Her fingers hovered above… — Markus Zusak Copy Share Image
She didn't dare to look up, but she could feel their frightened eyes hanging onto her as she hauled the words in… — Markus Zusak Copy Share Image
And I can promise you something, because it was a thing I saw many years later - a vision in the book… — Markus Zusak Copy Share Image
Papa was a man with silver eyes, not dead ones. Papa was an accordion! But his bellows were all empty. Nothing went… — Markus Zusak Copy Share Image
Sometimes I think my papa is an accordion. When he looks at me and smiles and breathes, I hear the notes. — Markus Zusak Copy Share Image
Papa sat with me tonight. He brought the accordion down and sat close to where Max used to sit. I often look… — Markus Zusak Copy Share Image
Liesel observed the strangeness of her foster father's eyes. They were made of kindness, and silver. — Markus Zusak Copy Share Image
I think that as a writer your responsibility is to search for and stir up the things that are in this world. There is… — Markus Zusak Copy Share Image
“For two days I went about my business. I travelled the globe as always, handing souls to the conveyor belt of eternity.” — Markus Zusak Copy Share Image
It is early, early morning. It's that time when it's still dark but you know the day is coming. Blue is bleeding through black.… — Markus Zusak Copy Share Image
“I'm twenty years old and look at me-- there isn't a thing I want to do” — Markus Zusak Copy Share Image
You should give it to Max, Liesel. See if you can leave it on the bedside table, like all the other things." Liesel watched… — Markus Zusak Copy Share Image
“When a woman with an iron fist tells you to get out there and clean spit off the door, you do it. Especially when… — Markus Zusak Copy Share Image
In years to come, he would be a giver of bread, not a stealer - proof again of the contradictory human being. So much… — Markus Zusak Copy Share Image
“«¿Por qué no puede oírlo el resto del mundo? —me pregunto. En pocos segundos me lo pregunto muchas veces—. Porque no le importa —me… — Markus Zusak Copy Share Image
Could she smell my breath? Could she hear my cursed circular heart beat revolving like the crime it is in my deathly chest? — Markus Zusak Copy Share Image
I see how complicated it is to make a film and how many people are involved and I love the fact that I get… — Markus Zusak Copy Share Image
