Sometimes you read a book so special that you want to carry it around with you for months after you've finished just to stay near it.

I am in all truthfulness attempting to be cheerful about this whole topic, though most people find themselves hindered in believing me, no matter my protestations. Please, trust me. I most definitely can be cheerful. I can be amiable. Agreeable. Affable. And that's only the A's. Just don't ask me to be nice. Nice has nothing to do with me.

She had her whole death ahead of her

In the darkness of my dark-beating heart, I know. He'd have loved it, all right.

How could she ever know that someone would pick her story up and carry it with him everywhere?

Tears were frozen to the book theif's face.

I read some books that were the right books for me. I read them and I didn't even notice turning the pages anymore. I thought, "That's what I want to do with my life."

Amplified by the still of night, the book opened -- a gust of wind.

I'm not a writer who refuses to talk about a book until I've finished.