Quotes from Cornelia Funke

Yes I do enjoy walking at night. The world's a lot more to my liking then, not so loud, not so fast, not so crowded, and a great deal more mysterious

Whenever he felt the sharp pangs of homesickness he had come back here to his old enemies, where he didn't feel quite so out of place.

But fear was an emotion Jacob almost enjoyed. It lured him to dark places, through forbidden doors and far away from himself. Even the yearning for his father could be drowned in it.

The python dropped his head lightly for a moment on Mowgli's shoulders. "A brave heart and a courteous tongue," said he. "They shall carry thee far through the jungle, manling.

Lady Cora,' he said, 'sometimes one has to do things which are unpalatable. When great issues are involved one can't toy with the situation in silk gloves. No. We are making history.' Mervyn Peake, Titus Groan

När det gällde traditioner kunde man inte argumentera med dvärgar, lika lite som med präster om religion.

Det var kejsarinnans far som hade stiftat en lag, att föremål, djur och människor med magiska egenskaper var skyldiga att rapporteras. För det var ju inte lätt att regera i en värld där ett guldträd kunde göra en tiggare till kung och talande djur viskade rebelliska visdomsord till skogsarbetarna.

Manchmal hilft es, wütend zu werden, wenn man vor Traurigkeit nicht ein noch aus weiß.

I'm only a kind of book doctor. I can give books new bindings, rejuvenate them a little, stop the bookworms from eating them, and prevent them from losing their pages over the years like a man loses his hair. But inventing the stories in them, filling new, empty pages with right words-- I can't do that. That's a very different trade. A famous writer once wrote, 'An author can be seen as three things: a storyteller, a teacher, or magician-- but a magician, the enchanter, is in the ascendant.

Perhaps the story now goes on beyond the book.

Una storia cambia continuamente vestito. Una storia cresce e germoglia come un qualcosa di vivo! Quelle che vengono chiuse nei libri, invece? Sì, magari vivono più a lungo, ma prendono vita solo quando i libri vengono aperti. Sono suoni pressati tra i fogli, e solo una voce può dar loro fiato!

Denkst du nicht auch, dass man von Zeit zu Zeit Geschichten lesen sollte, in denen alles etwas anders ist als in unserer Welt? Nichts lehrt einen besser zu fragen, warum die Bäume grün und nicht rot sind und warum man nur fünf und nicht sechs Finger hat.

The unicorns lifted their heads. Of course they weren't white. Why were things in this world always white-washed? Their hides were brown and grey, mottled black, and pale yellow like the autumn sun drifting through the damp fog above.

Never develop a passion you can't afford. It'll eat your heart away like a bookworm.

Nothing is more frightening then a fear you cannot name.

You cannot fully read a book without being alone. But through this very solitude you become intimately involved with people whom you might never have met otherwise, either because they have been dead for centuries or because they spoke languages you cannot understand. And nonetheless, they have become your closest friends, your wisest advisors, the wizards that hypnotize you, the lovers you have always dreamed of. Antonio Muñoz Molinas, "The Power of the Pen

He had lived in Venice for more than fifteen years and he still didn't know all the city's nooks and crannies — but then again no one did.

Nonsense!" she shouted. "Where are you going to go? We all belong together. Your problems are our problems.

What nonsense! I just like to believe in fairy tales.

Victor," he asked, "what do adults do all day?" "Work," Victor answered, "eat, shop, pay bills, use the phone, read newspapers, drink coffee, sleep.

Jealousy still gave him a pang. The heart was a stupid thing.

Lì i libri erano ammassati dappertutto. Non erano solo sugli scaffali come nelle altre case, no: da loro erano accatastati sotto i tavoli, sulle sedie, negli angoli più remoti. Ce n'erano in cucina e in bagno, sul televisore e nell'armadio; pile basse e pile alte. Grossi, piccoli, vecchi, nuovi... libri e ancora libri. Accoglievano Meggie sulla tavola apparecchiata per la colazione, invitanti; l'aiutavano a scacciare la noia... e qualche volta la mandavano lunga distesa per terra!

I libri la rincuoravano quando era triste e scacciavano la noia mentre Mo tagliava, rilegava, incollava pagine ormai logore, rese fragili da anni e anni d'uso sotto le innumerevoli dita che le avevano sfogliate.

Depose sul tavolo la cartella in cui teneva i risguardi da inserire prima del frontespizio e prese a sfogliarli con aria assente. «Ogni libro dovrebbe cominciare con una pagina vuota» aveva detto una volta a Meggie. «Meglio se scura: rosso scuro, blu scuro, a seconda del colore della copertina. Quando apri il libro, è come se fossi a teatro. Il sipario copre il palcoscenico. Tu lo tiri da parte e ha inizio la rappresentazione.»