So many humans. So many colors.

A snowball in the face is surely the perfect beginning to a lasting friendship.

… it was raining on Himmel Street when the world ended for Liesel Meminger. The sky was dripping. Like a tap that a child has tried its hardest to turn off but hasn’t quite managed.

Imagine smiling after a slap in the face. Then think of doing it twenty-four hours a day.

Like most misery, it started with apparent happiness.

Sometimes people are beautiful. Not in looks. Not in what they say. Just in what they are.

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

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.

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

Sometimes I just survive. But sometimes I stand on the rooftop of my existence, arms stretched out, begging for more.

If only she could be so oblivious again, to feel such love without knowing it, mistaking it for laughter.

We are stubborn on vision. We are flexible on details….

You don't look out there for God, something in the sky, you look in you.

If we believe the Bible, we must accept the fact that, in the old days, God and his angels came to humans in their sleep and made themselves known in dreams.

One naturally identifies to some extent with an "I" female narrator going through something that you recognize whether you've gone through it or not.

It is a capital mistake to theorize before you have all the evidence. It biases the judgment.

If you go through life and actually get to find out the thing you want to do, you're very lucky.

When you come right down to it, the secret to having it all is loving it all.

I'd like my reputation to stay as it is and to be remembered for a wonderful decade.

I have always wanted to midcourse-correct (or undermine) in a poem, and let that be the turn. That poem is to do with displacement, with almosts - even the rhymes are intentionally off.

The world is full of signals that we don't perceive.