Luise Labbee

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Bill Watterson
“From now on I’ll connect the dots my own way.”
Bill Watterson

Daphne du Maurier
“Dead men tell no tales, Mary.”
Daphne duMaurier, Jamaica Inn

Joseph Conrad
“It is when we try to grapple with another man's intimate need that we perceive how incomprehensible, wavering and misty are the beings that share with us the sight of the stars and the warmth of the sun. It is as if loneliness were a hard and absolute condition of existence; the envelope of flesh and blood on which our eyes are fixed melts before the outstretched hand, and there remains only the capricious, unconsolable and elusive spirit that no eye can follow, no hand can grasp.”
Joseph Conrad, Lord Jim

Viktor E. Frankl
“As each situation in life represents a challenge to man and presents a problem for him to solve, the question of the meaning of life may actually be reversed. Ultimately, man should not ask what the meaning of his life is, but rather he must recognize that it is he who is asked. In a word, each man is questioned by life; and he can only answer to life by answering for his own life; to life he can only respond by being responsible. Thus, logotherapy sees in responsibleness the very essence of human existence.”
Viktor E. Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning

Markus Zusak
“Max," she said. He turned and briefly closed his eyes as the girl continued.
There was once a strange, small man,"she said. Her arms were loose but her hands were fists at her side. "But there was a word shaker,too."

One of the Jews on his way to Dachau had stopped walking now. He stood absolutely still as the others swerved morosely around him, leaving him completely alone. His eyes staggered, and it was so simple. The words were given across from the girl to the Jew. They climbed on to him.

The next time she spoke, the questions stumbled from her mouth. Hot tears fought for room in her eyes as she would not let them out. Better to stand resolute and proud. Let the words do all of it. "Is it really you? the young man asked," she said. " Is it from your cheek that I took the seed.?"
Max Vandenburg remained standing.
He did not drop to his knees.
People and Jews and clouds all stopped. They watched.
As he stood, Max looked first at the girl and then stared directly into the sky who was wide and blue and magnificent. There were heavy beams-- planks of son-- falling randomly, wonderfully to the road. Clouds arched their backs to look behind as they started again to move on. "It's such a beautiful day," he said, and his voice was in many pieces. A great day to die. A great day to die,like this.
Liesel walked at him. She was courageous enought to reach out and hold his bearded face. "Is it really you,Max?"
Such a brilliant German day and its attentive crowd.
He let his mouth kiss her palm. "Yes, Liesel, it's me," and he held the girl's hand in his face and cried onto her fingers. He cried as the soldiers came and a small collection of insolent Jews stood and watched.”
Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

year in books
Jimmy A...
437 books | 50 friends

Alden J...
150 books | 27 friends

Ava Lam...
65 books | 26 friends


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