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7f4f80c
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A story wearing another dress every time you hear it - what could be better? A story that grows and puts out flowers like a living thing! But look at the stories people press in books! They may last longer, yes, but they breathe only when someone opens the book. They are sound pressed between the pages, and only a voice can bring them back to life! Then they throw off sparks, Balbulus! Then they go free as birds flying out into the world. P..
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Cornelia Funke |
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eddcc20
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Farid had brought an invisible guest with him. Fear.
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Cornelia Funke |
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9f00cdd
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Memories, so sweet and bitter.. they had both nourished and devoured him for so many years. Until a time came when they began to fade, turning faint and blurred, only an ache to be quickly pushed away because it went to your heart. For what was the use of remembering all you had lost?
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Cornelia Funke |
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729e5df
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The heart was a weak, changeable thing, bent on nothing but love, and there could be no more fatal mistake than to make it your master. Reason must be in charge. It comforted you for the heart's foolishness, it sang mocking songs about love, derided it as a whim of nature, transient as flowers. So why did she still keep following her heart?
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love
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Cornelia Funke |
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d18f2ab
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Let's run away to Venice, and hide out in an old movie theater. We can dye our hair blonde, so no one will ever find us!
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Cornelia Funke |
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3c64daf
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He flung his arms around her neck, but only once he saw Silvertoungue's back was turned. He never knew with fathers. "I'll save him, Meggie!" he wispered in her ear. "I'll bring Dustfinger back. This story will have a happy ending.I swear!"
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Cornelia Funke |
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ca3129f
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Go back and rid the word of that book. Fill it with words before spring comes, or winter will never end for you. And I will take not only your life for the Adderhead's but your daughter's, too, because she helped you bind the book. Do you undersand, Bluejay" Why two?" asked Mo hoarsely. "How can you ask for two lives in return for one?"
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Cornelia Funke |
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9ca8c97
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As Mo had said: writing stories is a kind of magic, too.
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writing
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Cornelia Funke |
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2237c39
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But after all, the villains are the salt in the soup of a story.
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Cornelia Funke |
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b748b5a
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The night belongs to beasts of prey, and always has. It's easy to forget that when you're indoors, protected by light and solid walls.
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light
darkness
prey
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Cornelia Funke |
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cec3ad9
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Who are you?' Mo looked at the White Women. Then he looked at Dustfinger's still face. Guess.' The bird ruffled up its golden feathers, and Mo saw that the mark on its breast was blood. You are Death.' Mo felt the word heavy on his tongue. Could any word be heavier?
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Cornelia Funke |
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12219bb
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Are you really going to catch us and take us back to Esther? We don't belong to her, you know." Embarrassed, Victor stared at his shoes. "Well, children all have to belong to somebody," he muttered. "Do you belong to someone?" "That's different." "Because you're a grown-up?"
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Cornelia Funke |
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4d43450
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What's that sticky stuff called?
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Cornelia Funke |
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a96fa74
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He longed for the deep as she longed for the night sky and for white lilies floating on water -- although she still tried to convince herself that love alone could feed her soul.
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Cornelia Funke |
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b0f8259
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Let's be off before he gets his great horsey teeth into my poor lines of verse!
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Cornelia Funke |
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d1d02bb
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When the heart craved something so forcefully, then reason became nothing but helpless observer.
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Cornelia Funke |
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f3ff399
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Since when does the butterfly ask about the caterpillar?
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Cornelia Funke |
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3108343
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We all know what fun it can be to get right into a book and live there for a while, but falling out of a story and suddenly finding yourself in this world doesn't seem to be much fun at all.
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Cornelia Funke |
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179774d
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Ist es nicht seltsam, wie viel dicker ein Buch wird, wenn man es mehrmals liest? [...] Als wurde jedes Mal etwas zwischen den Seiten kleben bleiben. Gefuhle, Gedanken, Gerausche, Geruche ... Und wenn du dann nach vielen Jahren wieder in dem Buch blatterst, entdeckst du dich selbst darin, etwas junger, etwas anders, als hatte das Buch dich aufbewahrt, wie eine gepresste Blute, fremd und vertraut zugleich.
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Cornelia Funke |
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272baad
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So it's happened, I kept thinking, you're in the middle of a story exactly as you've always wanted, and it's horrible. Fear tastes quite different when you're not just reading about it, Meggie, and playing hero wasn't half as much fun as I'd expected.
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story
hero
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Cornelia Funke |
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86a1514
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She had found him and was bringing back his thanks. Nor did she forget to mention that he had assured her that she was indeed the most beautiful fairy he had ever set eyes on.
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Cornelia Funke |
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37b4708
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It's the same in real life: Notorious murderers get off scot-free and live happily all their lives, while good people die - sometimes the very best people. That's the way of the world.
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Cornelia Funke |
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ca04501
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Perhaps the story in the book is just the lid on a pan: It always stays the same, but underneath there's a whole world that goes on - developing and changing like our own world.
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Cornelia Funke |
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d7c0f02
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The written word is a powerful thing, you have to be careful with it. - Silvertongue
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silvertongue
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Cornelia Funke |
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2a949c8
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My wife loves written words ... you know, words that stick to parchment and paper like dead flies, and it seems my father felt the same - but I want to hear words! Remember that when you are looking for the right words: You must ask yourself what they SOUND like! Glowing with passion, dark with sorrow, sweet with love, that's what I want. - Cosimo
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Cornelia Funke |
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fd1ca76
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Wir sind alle Lugner, wenn es uns nutzt.
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cornelia-funke
tintenherz
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Cornelia Funke |
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3a477f4
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How fast the ears learned to tell what sounds meant, much faster than it took the eyes to decipher written words.
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Cornelia Funke |
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f9cdadd
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He felt Death reaching out to him. But all of a sudden there was something else, too: words. Words that relieved the pain, cooled his brow, and spoke of love, nothing but love... It was his daughter's voice, and the White Women withdrew their pale hands as if they had burned themselves on her love.
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Cornelia Funke |
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fe6181b
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Sometimes Dustfinger thought Basta's constant fear of curses and sudden disaster probably arose from his terror of the darkness within himself, which made him assume that the rest of the world must be exactly the same.
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Cornelia Funke |
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358b12e
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If you take a book with you on a journey,' Mo had said when he put the first one in her box, 'an odd thing happens: the book begins collecting your memories. And forever after you have only to open that book to be back where you first read it.
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Cornelia Funke |
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943f119
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How loud a heart could beat. Until it took your breath away.
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Cornelia Funke |
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b74e003
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Many [book] even lay flat in the floor open. Their spines upward. Elinor couldn't bear to look! Didn't the monster know that was the way to break a book's neck?
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reading
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Cornelia Funke |
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fa0c3d2
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Sometimes, when I went to the spring to wash early in the morning," he murmured, "there'd be tiny fairies flitting around above the water, not much bigger than the butterflies you have here, and blue as violet petals. They liked to fly into my hair. Sometimes they spat in my face. They weren't very friendly, but they shone like glowworms by night. I sometimes caught one and put it in a jar. If I let it out at night before going to sleep I h..
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Cornelia Funke |
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800a63a
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A longing for books [is] nothing compared with what you [can] feel for human beings. The books [tell] you about that feeling. The books [speak] of love, and it [is] wonderful to listen to them, but they [are] no substitute for love itself.
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Cornelia Funke |
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614b8bb
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with every new day, Fenoglio's story was spinning a magic spell around her heart, sticky as spider's webs and enchantingly beautiful
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Cornelia Funke |
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f27d681
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Why could she remember nothing but stories of frightened people when Capricorn looked at her? She usually found it so easy to escape somewhere else, to get right inside the minds of people and animals who existed only on paper, so why not now? Because she was afraid. "Because fear kills everything," Mo had once told her. "Your mind, your heart, your imagination."
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Cornelia Funke |
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1d94147
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A story is a labyrinth, it looks as if there were several ways to go, but only one is right, and there's a nasty surprise ready to punish you for every false step.
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Cornelia Funke |
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aa15dca
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When it came to hiding, even Gwin had nothing to teach Dustfinger. A strange sense of curiosity had always driven him to explore the hidden, forgotten corners of this and any other place, and all that knowledge had now come in useful.
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personality
character
skills
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Cornelia Funke |
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3767931
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The Fairy's dress rustled as she turned. Human women dressed like flowers, layers of petals around a mortal, rotting core.
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Cornelia Funke |
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50ae9af
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She had only to open a door, nothing but a door between the words,just large enough for her and Farid to pass through....
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Cornelia Funke |
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803d5d0
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What was a slap for ten pages of escapism, ten pages far from everything that made him unhappy, ten pages of real life instead of the monotony that other people called the real world?
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Cornelia Funke |
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df2bf35
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Manche Bucher mussen gekostet werden, manche verschlingt man, nur einige wenige kaut man und verdaut sie ganz.
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Cornelia Funke |
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c639150
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How well worn they all were..."Isn't it odd how much fatter a book gets when you've read it several times?" Mo had said when, on Meggie's last birthday, they were looking at all her dear old books again. "As if something were left between the pages every time you read it. Feelings, thoughts, sounds, smells...and then, when you look at the book again many years later, you find yourself there, too, a slightly younger self, slightly different,..
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Cornelia Funke |
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e94f3fb
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The tent in which she first met him had smelled of blood, of the death she did not understand, and still she had thought of it all as a game. She had promised him the world. His flesh in the flesh of his enemies. And much too late had she realized what he had sown in her. Love. Worst of all poisons.
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Cornelia Funke |