Top 412 Quotes & Sayings by Markus Zusak

For 'The Book Thief,' I wanted only one outcome, and that was for the director to follow his own vision, just as I had.

I think I'm always somehow interested in characters who want to make one perfect thing, to transcend humanness, even if only for a moment.

Sometimes you get the cynical person saying, 'Do we really need another book set in Nazi Germany?' But I think you just have to ask, 'Is this a story worth telling?'

As a fan of both media, I never had any qualms about an adaptation. I've always been able to separate books I've loved from their movies, no matter how the film turns out.

When I was growing up, I wanted to be a house painter like my father, but I was always screwing up when I went to work with him. I had a talent for knocking over paint and painting myself into corners. I also realized fairly quickly that painting bored me.

I find writing extremely difficult. I usually have to drag myself to my desk, mainly because I doubt myself. And it's getting harder because I want to improve with every book.

I was lucky: I feel like I've written four books that mean something to me, and one book that means everything to me, and that's 'The Book Thief.'

Living in Sydney, I've taken the chance to start surfing again. One of my best memories of growing up is catching my first proper wave and surfing across it and my brother cheering at me from the shore.

I've just always loved books, and I love the idea that we're all just really made of stories. I do also like the idea that anyone can love books. Books don't care how educated you are or what you do for a living.

I try hard and aim big. People can hate or love my books but they can never accuse me of not trying.

I'm not one of these 'the characters write themselves; the story just fell out of me' kind of writers. Wish it was like that.

Every time you find something that doesn't work, you're a step closer to what does work.

Failure has been my best friend as a writer. It tests you, to see if you have what it takes to see it through.

I like to work in the morning, usually from 7-12, and still always hope to do more later. At the end of a book, I just work most of the time, but in general, I like to be working nice and early.

I think it's a mistake to think, 'Am I going to write a young adult book, or do I desperately want to write a book for adults?' I think the better ambition is to try to write someone's favorite book, because those categorizations of adult, young adult, become kind of superfluous.

The first book I remember loving was 'Grug and the Big Red Apple.' The first film I saw in the cinema was 'Grease.'

I think 'The Lord Of The Rings' is the mother of all cult books, because you can be in that cult and not even know you're in it.

I've heard some writers say things like, 'Well, I'm a professional writer. I only start books I know I can finish.' I look at it maybe the other way: I only want to write books I'm not sure I can write.

I think to be a writer, you have to enjoy being alone. I was a loner as a teenager and was always drawn to characters in books and films who were at the fringes.

I like the idea that every page in every book can have a gem on it. It's probably what I love most about writing - that words can be used in a way that's like a child playing in a sandpit, rearranging things, swapping them around.

I had many boxing matches with my brother in the backyard when we were younger, and I guess while other people abhor boxing for its brutality, I also have to admire anyone who climbs into the ring to face up to what could be the ultimate defeat.

I procrastinate in spades. In my defence, I also try to have all other distractions solved before I can concentrate on writing. My small theory is that to write for three hours, you need to feel like you have three days. To write for three days, you need to feel like you've got three weeks, and so on.

In the case of 'The Book Thief,' my research was hearing the stories of my parents when I was a child. But I started changing the stories when I began moulding the book.

I'm not a writer who refuses to talk about a book until I've finished.

I like to tell students, 'I didn't burst on to the literary scene.' I'm never good at things at the beginning. I was terrible at the start. I need to work and work.

But then, is there cowardice in the acknowledgment of fear? Is there cowardice in being glad that you lived?

My arms are killing me. I didn't know words could be so heavy.

They'd been standing like that for thirty seconds of forever.

Things always seem to glide away. They come to you, stay a moment, then leave again.

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.

It's not a big thing, but I guess it's true--big things are often just small things that are noticed.

The consequence of this is that I'm always finding humans at their best and worst. I see their ugly and their beauty, and I wonder how the same thing can be both.

Sometimes you read a book so special that you want to carry it around with you for months after you've finished just to stay near it.

A fighter can be a winner, but that doesn't make a winner a fighter.

Do we spend most of our days trying to remember or to forget? Do we spend most of our time running towards or away from our lives?

You’re a human, you should understand self-obsession.

I certainly wasn't born with creative writing. Maybe there's a certain amount of learning and then it's up to the person. I think in the end it's your favourite books that are the best teachers. That's the way I've learned the most, by far.

The injury of words. Yes, the brutality of words.

The night is alive with stars, and when I lie down and look up, I get lost up there. I feel like I’m falling, but upward, into the abyss of sky above me.

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.

Maybe everyone can live beyond what they're capable of.

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

Only hearts... They're in the inside of the inside of me.

Maybe one morning I’ll wake up and step outside of myself to look back at the old me lying dead among the sheets.

I always marvel at the humans' ability to keep going. They always manage to stagger on even with tears streaming down their faces.

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.

A DEFINITION NOT FOUND IN THE DICTIONARY Not leaving: an act of trust and love, often deciphered by children

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

I wanted to tell the book thief many things, about beauty and brutality. But what could I tell her about those things that she didn't already know? I wanted to explain that I am constantly overestimating and underestimating the human race - that rarely do I ever 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.

When her hands reached out and poured the tea, it was as if she also poured something into me while I sat there sweating in my cab. It was like she held a string and pulled on it just slightly to open me up. She got in, put a piece of herself inside me, and left again.

Somewhere, far down, there was an itch in his heart, but he made it a point not to scratch it. He was afraid of what might come leaking out.

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

There are moments when you can only stand and stare, watching the world forget you as you remove yourself from it - when you overcome it and cease to exist as the person you were.

The only thing worse than a boy who hates you: a boy that loves you.

It's funny, don't you think, how time seems to do a lot of things? It flies, it tells, and worst of all, it runs out.

For a moment, I panic. It's that feeling of falling when you know without question, that you've lost control of your car, or made a mistake that's beyond repair. 'What do I do now?' I ask desperately. 'Tell me! What do I do now?' He remains calm. He looks at me closely and says, 'Keep living, Ed... It's only the pages that stop here.

How do you tell if something's alive? You check for breathing.

Like most misery, it started with apparent happiness.

I want words at my funeral. But I guess that means you need life in your life.

There are so many moments to remember and sometimes I think that maybe we're not really people at all. Maybe moments are what we are.... Sometimes I just survive. But sometimes I stand on the rooftop of my existence, arms stretched out, begging for more.