Even death has a heart. — Markus Zusak, The Book Thief
Even death has a heart. — Markus Zusak, The Book Thief
Even death has a heart. — Markus Zusak, The Book Thief
Even death has a heart. — Markus Zusak, The Book Thief
Even death has a heart. — Markus Zusak, The Book Thief
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Even death has a heart.

— Markus Zusak, The Book Thief
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More “Death” Quotes

Oh, but once my memories had pulsed with the blood-heat of life. In desperation, I forced myself to recall that once, I — Stephen R. Lawhead, Byzantium
Sadness and boredom were more bearable than the effort of living a normal life. Perhaps the idea of death began to hover — Isabel Allende, Eva Luna
O Earth, lie heavily upon her eyes;Seal her sweet eyes weary of watching Earth;Lie close around her; leave no room for m — Jeffrey Eugenides, The Virgin Suicides
Who wanted to be smiled at by the girl that trailed shadows like pets, conjured snakes and waited for Death, her bridegr — Roshani Chokshi, The Star-Touched Queen
For, truly, the man who does not know when to die, does not know how to live. — John Ruskin, Unto This Last
The stillness and stasis of bed are the perfect opposite of travel: inertia is what I've come to consider the default mo — Lynne Sharon Schwartz, Not Now, Voyager: A Memoir
It would be especially comforting to believe that I have the answer to the question, What happens when we die? Does the — Mary Roach, Spook: Science Tackles the Afterlife
One night he sits up. In cots around him are a few dozen sick or wounded. A warm September wind pours across the country — Anthony Doerr, All the Light We Cannot See
I wished that my own bones were unbound, I wished they were mingling, picked clean by fish, with the bones of another bo — Ali Smith, Girl Meets Boy
A little muzhik was working on the railroad, mumbling in his beard. And the candle by which she had read the book that w — Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina
Cauldron save you.Mother hold you.Pass through the gates, and smell that immortal land of milk and honey.Fear no evil.Fe — Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses
For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and melt into the sun? — Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet