Cornelia Funke Quotes

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.

So what? All writers are lunatics!

She felt as if the grave stones were whispering those names to her as she walked past... Those stones that bore no names seemed like closed mouths, sad mouths that forgotten how to speak. But perhaps the dead didn't mind what their names had once been?

Books loved anyone who opened them, they gave you secruity and friendship and didn't ask for anything in return; they never went away, never, not even when you treated them badly.

It was a chilly morning after the night's rain, and the sun hung in the sky like a pale coin lost by someone high up in the clouds.

When the heart craved something so forcefully, then reason became nothing but helpless observer.

That bloody bastard! That thrice accursed son of a bitch!

Read – and be curious. And if somebody says to you: 'Things are this way. You can't change it' - don't believe a word.

Women were different, no doubt about it. Men broke so much more quickly. Grief didn't break women. Instead it wore them down, it hollowed them out very slowly.

It [the book] was spinning a magic spell around her heart, sticky as a spider's web and enchantingly beautiful..

Because fear kills everything," Mo had once told her. "Your mind, your heart, your imagination.

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.

I'm perfectly happy to know the world at secondhand. It's a lot safer.