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Markus Zusak

Markus Zusak Quotes

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Famous Markus Zusak Quotes

“I like that every page in every book can have a gem on it. It's probably what I love most about writing--that words can be used in a way that's like a child playing in a sandpit, rearranging things, swapping them around. They're the best moments in a day of writing -- when an image appears that you didn't know would be there when you started work in the morning.”

KnowsWayWritingChildrenBookMomentsWould BeUsedMorningPagesGemsChildren PlayingBest MomentsRearrangingSwapping
Book:The Book Thief: 10th Anniversary Edition
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“So many humans. So many colours. They keep triggering inside me. They harass my memory. I see them tall in their heaps, all mounted on top of each other. There is air like plastic, a horizon like setting glue. There are skies manufactured by people, punctured and leaking, and there are soft, coal-coloured clouds, beating, like black hearts. And then. There is death. Making his way through all of it. On the surface: unflappable, unwavering. Below: unnerved, untied, and undone.”

PeopleWayHumansHeartBlackMemoriesAirSkyCloudsSurfaceSettingSettingsColourTallHorizonPlasticCoalUndoneGlueUnwavering
Author:Markus Zusak
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“I suppose he'll die soon. I'm expecting it, like you do for a dog that's seventeen. There's no way to know how I'll react. He'll have faced his own placid death and slipped without a sound inside himself. Mostly, I imagine I'll crouch there at the door, fall onto him, and cry hard into the stench of his fur. I'll wait for him to wake up, but he won't. I'll bury him. I'll carry him outside, feeling his warmth turn to cold as the horizon frays and falls down in my backyard. For now, though, he's okay. I can see him breathing. He just smells like he's dead.”

KnowsWayI CanHardFeelingsDiesTurnsFallWaitingSoundKnow HowImagineDoorsDogCryLike YouColdOkayWake UpSmellBreathingHorizonWarmthExpectingFalling DownFurBackyardsSeventeenFrayPlacidWait For Him
Book:I Am the Messenger
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“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.”

ThinkingWayWantLooksSometimesReasonPlayFacesMovingUsedLinesSadnessCryPrideDown AndNotesFingersBreatheSatTonightCheeksLook At MeMaxPapaAccordions
Author:Markus Zusak
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