The accordion in the story The Book Thief symbolizes many emotions. The biggest emotion, or relapsing event that happens with the accordion is savior. Max's dad taught Hans how to play the accordion. Hans created a friendship with max's dad, which ended up saving his life. Liesel was more than terrified to venture into her new home. The accordion helped her cope with her new life. Max was running from the Nazis. If it wasn’t for his father teaching Hans to play the accordion, he would have never gotten to stay with the family. In the end the accordion symbolizes a comfort for everyone, and a glimpse of hope. 

 "It was Papa. People think he’s not so smart, and it’s true that he doesn’t read too fast, but I would soon learn that words and writing actually saved his life once. Or at least, words and a man who taught him the accordion..." (43)

 "It took three hours and six drafts to perfect the letter, telling her mother all about Molching, her papa and his accordion, the strange but true ways of Rudy Steiner, and the" (64)

"A fourteen-year-old girl is writing in a small dark-covered book. She is bony but strong and has seen many things. Papa sits with the accordion at his feet." (66)

"For nearly an hour, she remained, spread out under the kitchen table, till Papa came home and played the accordion. Only then did she sit up and start to recover." (67)

"All that was really left of Erik Vandenburg was a few personal items and the fingerprinted accordion. Everything but the instrument was sent home. It was considered too big. Almost with self-reproach, it sat on his makeshift bed at the base camp and was given to his friend, Hans Hubermann, who happened to be the only man to survive." (119)

“Do you still play the accordion?”
Of course, the question was really, “Will you still help me?” (125) 

"Papa sat on the floor, in the corner, workless as usual. Luckily, he would soon be leaving for the Knoller with his accordion. His chin resting on his knees, he listened to the girl he’d struggled to teach the alphabet. Reading proudly, she unloaded the final frightening words of the book to Max Vandenburg." (221)

"Papa, who’d forgotten everything—even his accordion—rushed back to her and rescued the suitcase from her grip. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, what have you got in here?” he asked. “An anvil?”" (253)

"She didn’t dare to look up, but she could feel their frightened eyes hanging on to her as she hauled the words in and breathed them out. A voice played the notes inside her. This, it said, is your accordion." (258)

"At first, his punishment was conscience. His oblivious unearthing of Max Vandenburg plagued him. Liesel could see it sitting next to his plate as he ignored his dinner, or standing with him at the bridge over the Amper. He no longer played the accordion." (281)  

"“I played an accordion, Liesel. Someone else’s.” He closes his eyes: “It brought the house down.”" (248)

 "“Could you look after my accordion, Liesel? I decided not to take it.”" (287)

"It took longer than she expected for her eyes to adjust, and when they did, there was no denying the fact that Rosa Hubermann was sitting on the edge of the bed with her husband’s accordion tied to her chest. Her fingers hovered above the keys. She did not move. She didn’t even appear to be breathing." (290)

"She knew that for the next few days, Mama would be walking around with the imprint of an accordion on her body." (290)

"One afternoon, she lifted the accordion from its case and polished it with a rag. Only once, just before she put it away, did she take the step that Mama could not." (296)

"She placed her finger on one of the keys and softly pumped the bellows. Rosa had been right. It only made the room feel emptier." (296)

"An unhappy-    

looking accordion, peering through its eaten case." (336)

"Some days Papa told her to get back into bed and wait a minute, and he would return with his accordion and play for her." (27)

" Liesel would sit up and hum, her cold toes clenched with excitement. No one had ever given her music before" (27) 

"Papa’s bread and jam would be half eaten on his plate, curled into the shape of bite marks, and the music would look Liesel in the face." (28) 

"The accordion’s scratched yet shiny black exterior came back and forth as his arms squeezed the dusty bellows, making it suck in the air and throw it back out." (28)

"She saw it but didn’t realize until later, when all the stories came together. She didn’t see him watching as he played, having no idea that Hans Hubermann’s accordion was a story." (48)

"The face was there again—his accordion face. That was one war started." (50)

"When he tracked down the family of Erik Vandenburg in Stuttgart upon his return, Vandenburg’s wife informed him that he could keep it. Her apartment was littered with them, and it upset her too much to look at that one in particular. The others were reminder enough, as was her once-shared profession of teaching it." (121)