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.
- Marcus Zusak, The Book Thief
I watched the contents of his soul for a moment and saw a black-painted
