A book about important topics, such as suffering, promises and friendship. Somehow i didn't like it. Not my style, perhaps.
Quotes:
The question is, what color will everything be at that moment when I come for you? What will the sky be saying?
A color will be perched on my shoulder.
To most people, Hans Hubermann was barely visible. An un-special person. Certainly, his painting skills were excellent. His musical ability was better than average. Somehow, though, and I’m sure you’ve met people like this, he was able to appear as merely part of the background, even if he was standing at the front of a line. He was always just there. Not noticeable. Not important or particularly valuable.
When he turned the light on in the small, callous washroom that night, Liesel observed the strangeness of her foster father’s eyes. They were made of kindness, and silver. Like soft silver, melting. Liesel, upon seeing those eyes, understood that Hans Hubermann was worth a lot.
“Schiller Strasse,” Rudy said. “The road of yellow stars.”
THE BOOK THIEF—LAST LINE I have hated the words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right.
I am haunted by humans.
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