Quotes About Loss

Rosa Hubermann was sitting on the edge of the bed with her husband's accordion tied to her chest. Her fingers hovered above the keys. She did not move. She didn't ever appear to be breathing.

They're the ones I can't stand to look at, although on occasion I still fail. I deliberately seek out the colors to keep my mind off them, but now and then, I witness the ones who are left behind, crumbling among the jigsaw puzzle of realization, despair, and surprise. They have punctured hearts. They have beaten lungs.

Within minutes, mounds of concrete and earth were stacked and piled. The streets were ruptured veins. Blood streamed till it was dried on the road, and the bodies were stuck there, like driftwood after the flood.

He was a great horse," she went on, "and the perfect story—we wouldn't love him so much if he'd lived.

There are pieces of me on the ground.

Certainly war meant dying, but it always shifted the ground beneath a person's feet when it was someone who had once lived and breathed in close proximity.

I don't want to hope for anything anymore. I don't want to pray that Max is alive and safe. Or Alex Steiner. Because the world did not deserve them.

Quién estaba allí para tranquilizarlo cuando le arrancaron la alfombra de la vida bajo los pies dormidos?.

Por encima de todo, la ladrona de libros ansiaba volver al sótano a escribir o leer su historia una vez más. Ahora que lo pienso, sin duda se le veía en la cara. Se moría de ganas de reencontrar esa seguridad, ese hogar, pero era incapaz de moverse. Además, el sótano ya no existía. Era parte del paisaje desvastado.

In truth, I think he was afraid. Rudy Steiner was scared of the book theif'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.

He's been to the brink and come back. I guess when you lose your pride, even for just a moment, you realise how much it means to you.

All four of us were young and undaunted and our smiles were so strong that it made me smile even then on the couch, with a kind of loss.

Who was there to soothe him as life's rug was snatched from under his sleeping feet?

You could argue that Liesel Meminger has it easy. She did have it easy compared to Max Vandenburg. Certainly, her brother practically died in her arms. Her mother abandoned her. But anything was better than being a Jew.

Lastly, the Hubermanns. Hans. Papa. He was tall in the bed and I could see the silver through his eyelids. His soul sat up. It met me. Those kind 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 becausre more of them have been put out............ Lisel. His soul whispered it as I carried him.

How many times did she have to say goodbye?

A veces me mata ver cómo muere la gente.

Don't make me happy. Please, don't fill me up and let me think that something good can come of any of this. Look at my bruises. Look at this graze. Do you see the graze inside me? Do you see it growing before your very eyes, eroding me? I don't want to hope for anything anymore. I don't want to pray that Max is alive and safe. Or Alex Steiner. Because the world does not deserve them.

Hasta la muerte tiene corazón.

In the darkness of my dark-beating heart, I know. He'd have loved it, all right.

God damn, you were so beautiful, Mama.

Liesel was sure her mother carried the memory of him, slung over her shoulder. She dropped him. She saw his feet and legs and body slap the platform.

For hours she sat with him as he shivered and slept. 'Don't die' she whispered. 'Please, Max, just don't die.' He was the second snowman to be melting away before her eyes, only this one was different. It was a paradox. The colder he became, the more he melted.

Un asiento, dos hombres, una breve discusión y yo. A veces me mata ver cómo muere la gente.