Quotes Book Thief Novels & Stories

A ghost who was guiding my hand from beyond the grave. I picked up the book. It was an old copy of The Master and Margarita. My favorite. Our favorite. Of course. I ran my thumb over the embossed cover. This was it. The weapon. The key. I tucked the book and the letter into my jacket and walked out of the vault, my head high. I was halfway across the marble floor of the bank lobby when I saw him.

That was his hand. The bile came up fast. I swallowed it back down hard and looked away and tried to think about something else and couldn't. Varek had moved to the desk. He dropped a thick leather book onto the granite and the sound of it made me flinch. He didn't look at me. Just stood there flipping it open like I wasn't bleeding on his floor. Like the thing on the marble behind me wasn't there. "Your father was a thief," he said. Flat. Like he was reading a shopping list.

She is just trying to be honest. “You're welcome,” said Quan in the end, feeling the need to return her teacher's thanks, no matter how impudent the reason was. “And where did your answer come from, Quan Durbysch?” Mr. Kei asked while tilting his head. Realizing that all the eyes in the class were on her, Quan's head felt as if an invisible ant was biting her. “From the boring book entitled Children of the Night which is now in the museum,” Quan said finally. “People say it's just bullshit, I say it's interesting.”

It could be used to poison them. The librarian, an elderly man known as Thaddeus, happened upon Antonio with a stack of well-worn books beside him. Thaddeus had served the royal family for years and recognized the earnest determination in Antonio’s eyes, having seen it many times in the king and queen themselves. "Prince Antonio," Thaddeus greeted, inclining his head slightly. "You seem engrossed. If you don't mind me asking, what are you reading about?" "Thaddeus," Antonio acknowledged, his gaze never leaving the ancient manuscript in front of him. "I am reading about werewolves, their history, culture and...Wolf's Bane."

“That book! That one right there. Did you touch it with your filthy, undeserving hands? If you did, you’ll be staying here longer to repent for the crime.” My eyes widen at his assertive threat. I couldn’t stay here any longer. I knew I just couldn’t. It was then I looked to my right to see the thick book. Of course, I had looked. I gleamed several pages of torment the sun’s bastard endured before I heard his footsteps. Of course, I put it exactly back in its place before taking my position where I originally was. But in that moment, I eyed the book as if it was the first time I had ever seen it. “Oh, I didn’t know you left that here. What is it?”

It seemed desolate, as if Jeniece had never come back since that day. A rusted rack caught his attention, and upon it lay a pile of books, their covers worn and edges worn. He reached for one, its brittle pages crumbling in his hands, each page stained with the yellow hue of age. These books, ancient and forgotten, held secrets that had been hidden in plain sight, truths we had been blind to. Just as Hunter began to delve into the faded words, a shiver ran down his spine. He wasn't alone. Instinctively, he spun around, his whip slicing through the air with deadly speed. But before the whip could find its mark, it was caught mid-strike.

Just enough room existed for me to fly straight up and back down to get to my special items. I had a big stack of books I kept right next to my bed. Gera usually found them on the side of the road, sometimes left outside the door of the library, not properly tucked into the slots. Some of them were so old and battered the words were barely visible, but I kept them anyway. Beggars can't be choosers, as the humans say. I liked to think that one day I would bring back the books that were still nice enough for the library, and buy some of my own. I didn't want to be a thief even if Gera was technically responsible for the thefts.

Estes shrugged, as if he didn’t want to argue with Quarth at this hour. “As for you … you thought you can get away from all the damages you’ve caused in Shavath?” Quarth spoke as he unlocked his sheath and placed his long sword at the couch. “After destroying the bookshelves in Librad, trespassing in the Ardrad … stealing a page of an archive!” he snapped.

Wow, so there was something else? It felt great, and the feeling I got was that I had found something, and someone. I have found a way to survive. I crossed the road to the alleyway, unto his corner, and met his piercing brown eyes scanning through my face. "No, I haven't come to steal" I said, in assurance, as his hand grasped the coin bin, giving it to his back for safe keeping. I sat down beside him, feeling the warmth from the sun, while my eyes glanced through the cool street, bearing the noises they gave in my ears.

The librarian, a wise old man with spectacles perched on his nose, had greeted them warmly and invited them to explore the dusty shelves filled with ancient tomes. As Scarlett's fingers grazed the spines of the books, a particular leather-bound volume caught her eye. Its title, "The Prophecy of the Shifting Stars," called to her with an inexplicable pull. She plucked it from the shelf and dusted off its cover, revealing faded golden letters etched into the leather. Curiosity burned within Scarlett. She opened the book and began to read aloud, her voice barely above a whisper. The words flowed like poetry from her lips, resonating deeply within her soul.