“Las malas historias no despiertan a la vida. No hay ningún Dedo Polvoriento en ellas.” — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
My dear Elinor, you were obviously born into the wrong story,” said Dustfinger at last. — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
When it came to hiding, even Gwin had nothing to teach Dustfinger. A strange sense of curiosity had always driven him to… — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
“Sometimes Dustfinger thought Basta’s constant fear of curses and sudden disaster probably arose from his terror of the darkness within himself, which… — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
Don't let it worry you, not being able to speak,'Dustfinger had often told her. 'People tend not to listen anyway, right? — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
Dustfinger still clearly remembered the feeling of being in love for the first time. How vulnerable his heart had suddenly been! Such… — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
He flung his arms around her neck, but only once he saw Silvertoungue's back was turned. He never knew with fathers. "I'll… — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
“He bent over Farid and wiped some soot from his cold forehead. "Roxanne knows it," he said. "She'll tell it to you.… — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
“You'd like him back, too, wouldn't you?" It was difficult for her to turn her eyes away from Farid's face. "He'll never… — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
And there stood Basta with his foot already on another dead body, smiling. Why not? He had hit his target, and it… — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
Who are you?' Mo looked at the White Women. Then he looked at Dustfinger's still face. Guess.' The bird ruffled up its… — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
Dustfinger inspected his reddened fingers and felt the taut skin. ‘He might tell me how my story ends,’ he murmured. Meggie looked… — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
This world,' she said. 'Do you really like it?' What a question! Farid never asked himself such things. He was glad to… — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
From the tower battlements, Dustfinger looked down on a lake as black as night, where the reflection of the castle swam in… — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
