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The crowd was itself. There was no swaying it, squeezing through or reasoning...
Author:
Markus Zusak
Book:
The Book Thief
Viewed:
2 -
Published at:
5 years ago
The crowd was itself. There was no swaying it, squeezing through or reasoning with it. You breathed with it and you sang its songs. You waited for its fire.
( Markus Zusak )
[ The Book Thief ]
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