THE BOOK THIEF
-Markus Zusak
*spoiler alert*

"I have hated words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right."

"I carried [Rudy] softly through the broken street...with him I tried a little harder [at comforting]. I watched the contents of his soul for a moment and saw a black-painted boy calling the name Jesse Owens as he ran through an imaginary tape. I saw him hip-deep in some icy water, chasing a book, and I saw a boy lying in bed, imagining how a kiss would taste from his glorious next-door neighbor. He does something to me, that boy. Every time. It's his only detriment. He steps on my heart. He makes me cry."

""How about a kiss, Saumensch?"
He stood waist-deep in the water for a few moments longer before climbing out and handing her the book. His pants clung to him, and he did not stop walking. In truth, I think he was afraid. Rudy Steiner was scared of the book thief's kiss. He must have longed for it so much. He must have loved her so incredibly hard. So hard that he would never ask for her lips again and would go to his grave without them."

"The consequence of this is that I'm always finding humans at their best and worst. I see their ugly and their beauty, and I wonder how the same thing can be both."

"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."

"On many counts, taking a boy like Rudy Steiner was robbery--so much life, so much to live for--yet somehow, I'm certain he would have loved to see the frightening rubble and the swelling of the sky on the night he passed away. He'd have cried and turned and smiled if only he could have seen the book thief on her hands and knees, next to his decimated body. He'd have been glad to witness her kissing his dusty, bomb-hit lips.
Yes, I know it.
In the darkness of my dark-beating heart, I know. He'd have loved it all right.
You see?
Even death has a heart."

"It kills me sometimes, how people die."

"Τόσο πολλοί άνθρωποι με κυνηγούσαν εκείνη την περίοδο φωνάζοντας τ' όνομά μου, ζητώντας μου να τους πάρω μαζί μου. Μα υπήρχε κι ένα μικρό ποσοστό που με φώναζε περιστασιακά και μου ψιθύριζε με σφιγμένα δόντια.
"Πάρε με", έλεγαν και δεν υπήρχε τρόπος να τους σταματήσει κανείς. Ήταν φοβισμένοι, χωρίς αμφιβολία, αλλά εμένα δεν με φοβόνταν. Αυτό που φοβόνταν ήταν να μην έρθει η ζωή τους τα πάνω κάτω και βρεθούν αντιμέτωποι ξανά με τους εαυτούς τους, με τον κόσμο, με την φάρα σας.
Δεν υπήρχε τίποτα που να μπορώ να κάνω.
Ήταν εξαιρετικά ευρηματικοί - κι όταν το έκαναν πολύ καλά, όποια κι αν ήταν η μέθοδος που είχαν επιλέξει, δεν ήμουν σε θέση να τους τ' αρνηθώ.
Αυτοκτόνησε γιατί ήθελε να ζήσει.
Ο Μίχαελ Χόλτσαπφελ ήξερε τι έκανε."

"Είναι το αγόρι από το αεροπλάνο, σκέφτηκα. Αυτό με το παιδικό αρκουδάκι. Ποιος θα παρηγορούσε τώρα τον Ρούντι; Ποιος θα μετρίαζε την οργή του που του είχαν κλέψει τη ζωή του; Ποιος θα ήταν εκεί να τον ανακουφίσει καθώς άρπαζαν βίαια το χαλάκι της ζωής κάτω από τα κοιμισμένα πόδια του;
Κανείς.
Μόνο εγώ ήμουν εκεί.
Και δεν είμαι δα και ό,τι καλύτερο στην ανακούφιση των ανθρώπων, ιδιαίτερα όταν τα χέρια μου είναι κρύα και το κρεβάτι ζεστό."