Book Thief Book Quotes Novels & Stories

“Seriously, Book, this place is almost as old as you. Why don’t you use some of that money you used to steal and buy a nice place? Maybe one without a fucking roach infestation.” The critter unleashed a fresh memory, Zoe’s sleepy voice confessing her lie of his occupation. His stomach flipped, his throat thankful he had nothing left in his stomach to expel. Booker’s voice snapped his from his thoughts. “Listen here, kid. Money’s meant to be spent on fine women, fine whiskey and some good ol’ fashioned drugs. Why would I spent good money on a nice place? This works just fine.” Kicking the front door shut, Booker dawdled to the sofa, falling into it. It creaked almost as loudly as he did.

"No women ever shot her man while he was doing dishes." ~ Author unknown. - "Everyday. I couldn't be happy if I didn't see him everyday. He is absolutely necessary to me." Lucia read a quote from The picture of Dorian Gray. She vaguely smiled, this book meant so much to her. It was the book she once shared with him, a book that later hurt her because of the character he had compared her to but she loved it now. There was not a day she didn't read it, not a day she didn't read one quote from the book to keep herself going.

He asked me, ever so randomly. I furrowed my brows in confusion, finding it hard to remember. "You said 'I'm sorry Dean, but this is how we end'." He reminded me. I looked at him, still trying to understand why he made that reference. "And as time passed, and I started to heal," he went on, "I could think about our memories without feeling so much pain and there was a particular one that always crossed my mind." I waited for him to reveal what it was. "True love stories never have endings." He said softly. "Richard Bach."

Tyson She keeps flipping the pages and skimming through them, searching for what love is. It's funny we hunt for things that are right in front of us, but we can barely recognise them. Either we refused to or we are ignorant of them. Take this quote from me. I guess she was done going through the books on her desk because she stood up heading towards the book shelf to return them. I stand on my feet to follow her since it is kind of dark, I can't let her walk around without me by her side.

I ditched the pickaxe, looking for anything else to use, but in my frenzy, I stumbled and ended up on the floor. The footsteps behind me were getting louder. A cold sweat drenched my back as I curled up, cornered and powerless. The pitch-black cellar had me spouting anything that came to mind, a last-ditch plea. "Please, mister, have mercy! I can pay you—ten, twenty thousand dollars. Just let me go, and I'll owe you big time, even in my next life!" "You've been slaving away for twenty years already, isn't that enough? You want to keep it up in your next life too?"

“There you go. Our policy states that every borrowed book must be returned in three days.” “You have nothing to worry about,” I replied and tried to lay my hands on the book but he pulled it away from my grasp. He turned to Miles. “You’re the one whose details were captured. You should take it.” Miles nodded and grabbed the book. I frowned. “One more thing!” The bookkeeper called our attention just when we turned around to leave. "The heart must choose. The hands must heal. Or the curse will seal." He said.

“You?” She glanced up as thought thinking. Then in a soft but yet certain voice, she said. “He really had been through death, but he had returned because he realized he had not yet finished living.” There was this passion in her eyes as she quoted the line that it made the hair on my arms rise. I’d never met anyone like her…that I could actually quote lines from a classic book and would get it. Even in literature class, I always felt like an outsider because nobody felt comfortable with the jock who practically knew the poem by Italian poet Dante, by heart.

“You don’t know shit about what I’ve built or what I’ve lost. You think your little bookstore is the center of the universe? Grow up. The world doesn’t stop for rose bushes and storytime.” She yanked free, but didn’t step back. Their bodies were inches apart, rain pouring between them. “And you think money fixes everything? That you can just take what you want and call it progress? You’re empty. Cold. The second this deal’s done, you’ll forget I existed.”

The boss's promises must be pretty convincing to have cultivated employees with impressive loyalty. I switched tactics and asked, "Who's your boss? Did I offend him or something? I'm just a broke student, so why did he kidnap me?" "Boss said…" He paused, as if to search for the exact wording. "He lost… a heart with you." His words sent a chill down my spine. Why did the words "lost a heart" sound so familiar? The car sped out of the city and veered into country lanes I had only seen in Canverlian dramas. Towering, perfectly-trimmed hedges lined both sides of the lanes to form a dark wall that cut us off from the rest of the world.

I press the book to my chest and sob, rocking back and forth like a child. “You stupid girl,” I hissed at the heroine. “If I were you, I’d have saved him. I’d have shown him he was worth something.” My fingers clench around the cover. “I wish I were you,” I whisper, bitter and broken. “No one will ever love me like Luke Thorne did you. No one. I wish I were you.” I throw the book across the room. It smacks the wall and slides to the floor. Home is hell.