The sky is blue today, Max, and there is a big long cloud, and it's stretched out, like a rope. At the end of it, the sun is like a yellow hole. . - Markus Zusak

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

Sometimes people are beautiful.
Not in looks.
Not in what they say.
Just in what they are.

On many counts, taking a boy like Rudy Steiner was robbery — so much life, so much to live for — yet somehow, I'm certain he would have loved to see the frightening rubble and the swelling of the sky on the night he passed away. He'd have cried and turned and smiled if only he could have seen the book thief on her hands and knees, next to his decimated body. He'd have been glad to witness her kissing his dusty, bomb-hit lips.
Yes, I know it.
In the darkness of my dark-beating heart, I know. He'd have loved it all right.
You see?
Even death has a heart.