I carried [Rudy] softly through the broken street…with him I tried a little harder [at comforting]. I watched the contents of his soul for a moment and saw a black-painted boy calling the name Jesse Owens as he ran through an imaginary tape. I saw him hip-deep in some icy water, chasing a book, and I saw a boy lying in bed, imagining how a kiss would taste from his glorious next-door neighbor. He does something to me, that boy. Every time. It’s his only detriment. He steps on my heart. He makes me cry.
— Markus Zusak, The Book Thief (via observando)
A girl calls and asks, ‘Does it hurt very much to die?’. ‘Well, sweetheart,’ I tell her, ‘yes, but it hurts a lot more to keep living.’
— Chuck Palahniuk, Survivor (via observando)