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

"Finally, in October 1945, a man with swampy eyes, feathers of hair, and a clean-shaven face walked into the shop. He approached the counter. "Is there someone here by the name of Leisel Meminger?"
"Yes, she's in the back," said Alex. He was hopeful, but he wanted to be sure. "May I ask who is calling on her?"

Leisel came out.
They hugged and cried and fell to the floor."

The question is, what color will everything be at that moment when I come for you? What will the sky be saying?

"She tore a page from the book and ripped it in half.
Then a chapter.
Soon, there was nothing but scraps of words littered between her legs and all around her. The words. Why did they have to exist? Without them, there wouldn't be any of this. Without words, the Führer was nothing. There would be no limping prisoners, no need for consolation or wordly tricks to make us feel better.
What good were the words?
She said it audibly now, to the orange-lit room. "What good are the words?