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Markus Zusak Biography

Markus Frank Zusak (born 23 June 1975) is an Australian writer. He is best known for The Book Thief and The Messenger (US title, I Am the Messenger), two novels for young adults which became international best-sellers. He won the annual Margaret A. Edwards Award in 2014 for his contributions to young-adult literature published in the US.

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Markus Zusak Quotes

It felt as though the whole globe was dressed in snow. Like it has pulled it on, the way you pull on a sweater. Next to the train line, footprints were sunken to their shins. Trees wore blankets of ice. As you may expect, someone has died.

Ice, Sweaters, Snow, Whole, Pulled

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.

Capacity, Castles, Destruction, House Of Cards, Like, Skills

The impoverished always try to keep moving, as if relocating might help. They ignore the reality that a new version of the same old problem will be waiting at the end of the trip- the relative you cringe to kiss.

Moving, Kissing, Reality, Version, Keep

Sometimes I think my papa is an accordion. When he looks at me and smiles and breathes, I hear the notes.

Accordion, Father, Papa, Smiles, Think, Thinking

The human child – so much cannier at times than the stupefyingly ponderous adult.

Adult, Adults, Cannier, Children, Human, Humans

Believe it or not--it takes a lot of love to hate you like this.

Believe, Hate, Love, Love Hate

He killed himself for wanting to live.

Killed, Live, Rafters, Suicide, Wanting

Around us I can sniff out a savagery in the noisy southern air. It knifes it's way into my nose, but I do not bleed blood. It's fear I bleed, and it gushes out over my lip. I wipe it away, in a hurry.

Air, Blood, Nose, Southern, Wipe

I'm not the messenger at all. I'm the message.

Message, Messages, Messenger, Messengers

They say that war is death's best friend, but I must offer you a different point of view on that one. To me, war is like the new boss who expects the impossible. He stands over your shoulder repeating one thin, incessantly: 'Get it done, get it done. ' So you work harder. You get the job done. The boss, however, does not thank you. He asks for more.

Expects, Friend, Jobs, Offer, Views, War

At first, all is black and white. Black on white. That's where I'm walking, through pages. These pages. Sometimes it gets so that I have one foot in the pages and the words, and the other in what they speak of.

Black And White, Feet, Gets, Pages, Words

You cannot be afraid, Read the book. Smile at it. It's a great book-the greatest book you've ever read.

Book, Great Book, Greatest Book, Afraid, Smile

I'm having bigger problems when I'm writing.

Bigger, Bigger Problems, Having, Problem, Problems, Writing

Smile with instinct, then lick your wounds in the darkest of dark corners. Trace the scars back to your own fingers and remember them.

Dark, Remember, Scar, Scars, Trace

People die of broken hearts. They have heart attacks. And it's the heart that hurts most when things go wrong and fall apart.

Apart, Fall, Heart, Hurt, People

There was once a strange, small man. He decided three important details about his life: 1. He would part his hair from the opposite side to everyone else. 2. He would make himself a small, strange mustache. 3. He would one day rule the world. . . . Yes, the Fuhrer decided that he would rule the world with words.

Hair, Men, Opposite, Opposites, Rule, Words

A book floated down the Amper River. A boy jumped in, caught up to it, and held it in his right hand. He grinned. He stood waist-deep in the icy, Decemberish water. “How about a kiss, Saumensch?” he said.

Book, Boys, Hand, Kiss, Kissing

As far as this categorization of books, the way I see it is there are really a hundred-odd categories of books plus one, and on the top shelf at home, I've got the books I love, my favorite books, and that's the type of book that I want to write.

Book, Home, See, Shelf, Writing

She let herself love me for three minutes. Can three minutes last forever? I ask myself, but already know the answer. Probably not, I reply. But maybe they last long enough.

Already, Forever, Long, Love, Minutes, Three

I looked at myself in that window, oblivious to all the people around me and I stared and smiled that particular smile. You know that smile that seems to knock you and tell you how pathetic you are? That's the smile I was smiling.

Particular, People, Smile, Smiling, Window

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