Quotes from Cornelia Funke

if you can change the fate of a character you read out of a book by adding new words to his story, then maybe you can change everything about it: who goes out, who comes in, how it ends, who's happy, and who's unhappy afterwards.

Wie gross kleine Geraeusche in der Stille werden.

Ah,yes!That...Silvertongue! Orpheus spoke the name in a disparaging tone, as if he couldn't believe that anyone really deserved it. Yes, that's what he's called. How do you know? There was no mistaking Dustfinger's surprise. The hellhound snuffled at Farid's bare toes. Orpheus shrugged. Sooner or later you get to hear of everyone who can breate life into letters on a page.

Life is so simple when you're young, though of course that's not what it feels like to the young.

Unlike me, he realized that Dustfinger would do anything in return for such a promise. All he wants is to go back to his own world. He doesn't even stop to ask if his story there has a happy ending! Well, that's no different from real life, remarked Elinor gloomily. You never know if things will turn out well. Just now our own story looks like it's coming to a bad end.

Why were love and death such close neighbors?

No one saw firedrake as he made his escape along the canal.

He looked so glorious. Just like the knights I had dreamed about when I was six years old, whacking at brambles iin our garden, imagining I was fighting dragons and giants with a sword that made me invincible and wearing armor that protected me from all the things that frightened me - older kids, dogs, a storm in the knight, or my little sister's questions about when our father would be coming back.

Well what does it matter,' he muttered when he was out in the corridor. 'Who wants to know the end of a story in advance?

Everyone living around this lake thinks I'm crazy, and if we go back to the police with this story, then the news that Elinor Loredan has finally flipped will be all over the place. Which just goes to show that a passion for books is extremely unhealthy.

How ridiculous that water ran out of your eyes when your heart hurt. Tragic heroines in books tended to be amazingly beautiful. Not a word about swollen eyes or a red nose. Crying always gives me a red nose, thought Elinor. I expect that's why I'll never be in any book.

yes, books are like flypapers. Memories cling to the printed page better than anything else.

You're the one who says books have to be heavy because the whole world's inside of them, said Meggie...

Liebe ist eben genauso ungerecht verteilt auf dieser Welt wie Regen. Die einen kriegen entschieden zu viel davon ab und die anderen zu wenig. - Frieda

Vielleicht war er ja noch da, irgendwo hinter ihren geschlossenen Lidern, vielleicht klebte ja noch etwas Glueck an ihren Wimpern, wie Goldstaub. Liessen Traeume in den Maerchen nicht manchmal so ertwas zurueck?

Why did such truths only reveal themselves after they'd become lies?

Her heart pounded as he kissed her. Or was it his heart? She hadn't been able to tell the difference ever since he'd freed her from that trap.

Together. Even in death. His fingers tightened their grip around her hand. A double statue of silver. Romantic. What would their faces show? Fear? Or love?

How loud small noises sound in a silence.

There it was, that familiar fear, love's terrible price.

If you're going to start tonight there's no time to waste. Certainly not enough time to finish your quarrel with this dim-witted mushroom-muncher.

But i know a lot about the kind of men you mean. They're the same everywhere.

Yes, Mo would come. Meggie could think of nothing else as Fenoglio led her away with him, his arm around her as if he could really protect her from Capricorn and Basta and all the others. But he couldn't. Would Mo be able to protect her? Of course not. He mustn't come, she thought. Please. Perhaps he won't be able to find his way in again! He mustn't come. Yet there was nothing she wanted more, nothing in the whole wide world.

Meggie thought this first whisper sounded a little different from one book to another, depending on weather or not she already knew the story it was going to tell her.