Just be patient, she told herself, and with the mounting pages, the strength of her writing fist grew.
Markus ZusakRead
Yes, I know it. In the darkness of my dark beating heart, I know. He'd have loved it alright. You see? Even Death Has A Heart.
Interpretation
The quote suggests that even death possesses emotional depth and a connection to love.
In this quote by Markus Zusak, the speaker reflects on the nature of love and loss, suggesting that even in the face of death, there exists a profound emotional bond that transcends mortality. The notion that 'even Death has a heart' implies that love continues to resonate even after life has ended, highlighting the enduring impact of love in our lives and its ability to infuse life, and even death, with meaning and connection.
In practice
This quote can be shared at a memorial service to remind attendees of the enduring nature of love.
Just be patient, she told herself, and with the mounting pages, the strength of her writing fist grew.
It felt as though the whole globe was dressed in snow. Like it has pulled it on, the way you pull on a sweater. Next to the train line, footprints were sunken to their shins. Trees wore blankets of ice. As you may expect, someone has died.
Because you don't learn anything unless you can find the patience to read. TV takes that away from you. It robs you from your mind.
Or had she always loved him? It's likely. Restricted as she was from speaking, she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to drag her hand across and pull her over. It didn't matter where. Her mouth, her neck, her cheek. Her skin was empty for it, waiting.
I think it's a mistake to think, 'Am I going to write a young adult book, or do I desperately want to write a book for adults?' I think the better ambition is to try to write someone's favorite book, because those categorizations of adult, young adult, become kind of superfluous.
I could introduce myself properly, but it's not really necessary. You will know me well enough and soon enough, depending on a diverse range of variables. It suffices to say that at some point in time, I will be standing over you, as genially as possible. Your soul will be in my arms. A color will be perched on my shoulder. I will carry you gently away.
We've learned how to destroy, but not to create; how to waste, but not to build; how to kill men, but not how to save them; how to die, but seldom how to live.
It's said that when we die, the four elements - earth, air, fire and water - dissolve one by one, each into the other, and finally just dissolve into space. But while we're living, we share the energy that makes everything, from a blade of grass to an elephant, grow and live and then inevitably wear out and die. This energy, this life force, creates the whole world.
The formula of the argument is simple and familiar: to dispose of a problem all that is necessary is to deny that it exists.
The myth of unending consumption has taken the place of the belief in life everlasting.
There is no coincidence. Only the illusion of coincidence.
Every man lives in two realms: the internal and the external. The internal is that realm of spiritual ends expressed in art, literature, morals, and religion. The external is that complex of devices, techniques, mechanisms, and instrumentalities by means of which we live.
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