The Great Gatsby
“Through this twilight universe of Daisy began to move again keeping half a dozen dates a day with half a dozen men and drowsing asleep at dawn with the beads chiffon of an evening dress tangled among dying orchids on the floor beside her bed. And all the time something within her was crying for a decision. She wanted her life shaped now, immediately- and the decision must be made by some force- of love, of money, of unquestionable practicality- that was close at hand.”
from The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald pg. 130
The Great Gatsby
“He had intended, probably, to take what he could and go – but now he found that he had committed himself to the following of a grail. He knew that Daisy was extraordinary, but he didn’t realize just how extraordinary a “nice” girl could be. She vanished into her rich house, into her rich, full life, leaving Gatsby – nothing. He felt married to her, that was all.”
from The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald pg. 157
The Book Thief
“She leaned down and looked at his lifeless face and Liesel kissed her best friend, Rudy Steiner, soft and true on his lips. He tasted dusty and sweet. He tasted like the regret in the shadows of trees and in the glow of the anarchist’s suit collection. She kissed him long and soft, and when she pulled herself away, she touched his mouth with her fingers. Her hands were trembling, her lips were fleshy, and she leaned in once more, this time losing control and misjudging it. Their teeth collided on the demolished world of Himmel Street.”
from The Book Thief by Markus Zusak pg. 536
The Book Thief
“… it was raining on Himmel Street when the world ended for Liesel Meminger.
The sky was dripping.
Like a tap that a child has tried its hardest to turn off but hasn’t quite managed.”
from The Book Thief by Markus Zusak pg. 497
The Book Thief
“He was the crazy one who had painted himself black and defeated the world.
She was the book thief without the words.
Trust me, though, the words were on their way, and when they arrived, Liesel would hold them in her hands like the clouds, and she would wring them out like rain.”
from The Book Thief by Markus Zusak pg. 80
