I wanted to explain that I am constantly overestimating and underestimating the human race - that rarely do I even simply estimate it. I wanted to ask her how the same thing could be so ugly and so glorious, and its words and stories so damning and brilliant..I AM HAUNTED BY HUMANS.
Markus Zusak
It kills me sometimes, how people die.
people death die
race death human stories humans words haunted ugly brilliant books thing
I could introduce myself properly, but it's not really necessary. You will know me well enough and soon enough, depending on a diverse range of variables. It suffices to say that at some point in time, I will be standing over you, as genially as possible. Your soul will be in my arms. A color will be perched on my shoulder. I will carry you gently away.
death time soul color arms
If they killed him tonight, at least he would die alive.
death alive die
For some reason, dying men always ask the question they know the answer to. Perhaps it's so they can die being right.
men death reason question die answer dying
***HERE IS A SMALL FACT*** You are going to die.
death small die fact
Grimly, she realized that clocks don't make a sound that even remotely resembles ticking, tocking. It was more the sound of a hammer, upside down, hacking methodically at the earth. It was the sound of a grave.
sound death time earth grave clocks
Even death has a heart.
life death heart
And it would show me, once again, that one opportunity leads directly to another, just as risk leads to more risk, life to more life, and death to more death.
opportunity life death risks risk opportunities
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.
work death war friend offer impossible job thin boss view
Still, they have one thing I envy. Humans, if nothing else, have the good sense to die.
life death sense humans good envy die thing
The bombs were coming-and so was I.
death bombs
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.
death world color trees snow train white ice
A small but noteworthy note. I've seen so many young men over the years who think they're running at other young men. They are not. They are running at me.
men death war running small young
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.
death time moment soul heart lying book water cry broken neighbor taste kiss calling boy chasing bed imaginary
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