The Book Thief 1
Storyboard Text
- I am Death. And I need a distraction from the leftover humans, the survivors. That's why I look for colors. This is a story, about a girl, some words, an accordionist, some fanatical Germans, a Jewish fist fighter, and quite a lot of thievery. I saw the book thief three times.
- My son!
- Leave them here to die with him...
- My brother! He's dead!
- What do we do with them?
- The second time I saw the book thief, I had come for a man of perhaps twenty-four years of age. It was a beautiful thing in some ways. The plane was still coughing. Smoke was leaking from both its lungs. But she was alive. The last time I saw her, a packet of souls were glued to the ground. Bombs had been hurled by humans hiding in the clouds. I was about to leave when I saw her, A mountain range of rubble erected around her. She was clutching at a book
- The book thief and her brother were traveling down toward Munich, where they would soon be given over to foster parents. We now know, of course, that the boy didn’t make it.
- Hitler
- Priest, thank you for performing the ceremony.
- So hard getting through all the ice!
- I can't believe I lost my brother, and have to say goodbye to my mother too!
- That boy dropped his book, I must take it to remember this moment!
- I refuse to get out of the car!
- Dein neues Heim. Your new home.
- What's wrong with this child?
- What are you assholes looking at?
- Himmel Street
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