There was also a rumor that later in the day, she walked fully clothed into the Amper River and said something very strange. Something about a kiss. … - Markus Zusak

The words were on their way, and when they arrived, she would hold them in her hands like the clouds, and she would wring them out like the rain.

Can a person steal happiness? Or is just another internal, infernal human trick?

"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?