A SMALL PIECE OF TRUTH I do not carry a sickle or scythe. I only wear a hooded black robe when it's cold. And I don't have those skull-like facial features you seem to enjoy pinning on me from a distance. You want to know what I truly look like? I'll...
A human doesn't have a heart like mine. The human heart is a line, whereas my own is a circle, and I have the endless ability to be in the right place at the right time. The consequence of this is that I'm always finding humans at their best and wors...
I know who you are and I am ready. Not that I want to go, of course, but I will come." Those souls are always light because more of them have been put out.
The scribbled signature black, onto the blinding global white, onto the thick soupy red.
For two days I went about my business. I travelled the globe as always, handing souls to the conveyor belt of eternity.
It was a year for the ages, like 79, like 1346, to name just a few. Forget the scythe, Goddamn it, I needed a broom or a mop. And I needed a vacation.
***HERE IS A SMALL FACT*** You are going to die.
Could she smell my breath? Could she hear my cursed circular heart beat revolving like the crime it is in my deathly chest?
And I can promise you something, because it was a thing I saw many years later - a vision in the book thief herself - that as she knelt next to Hans Hubermann, she watched him stand and play the accordion. He stood and strapped it on in the alps of b...
I guess humans like to watch a little destruction. Sand castles, houses of cards, that's where they begin. Their great skills is their capacity to escalate.
It’s all very well for such a person to whine and moan and criticize other family members, but they won’t let anyone else do it. That’s when you get your back up and show loyalty.
The orange flames waved at the crowd as paper and print dissolved inside them. Burning words were torn from their sentences.
... And the boy whose hair remained the color of lemons forever.
On June 23, 1942, there was a group of French Jews in a German prison, on Polish soil. The first person I took was close to the door, his mind racing, then reduced to pacing, then slowing down, slowing down.... Please believe me when I tell you that ...
A snowball in the face is surely the perfect beginning to a lasting friendship.
When finally she finished and stood herself up, he put his arm around her, best-buddy style, and they walked on. There was no request for a kiss. Nothing like that. You can love Rudy for that, if you like.
..As always, she was carrying the washing. Rudy was carrying two buckets of cold water, or as he put it, two buckets of future ice.
An eleven-year-old girl is many things, but she is not stupid.
