Dark Quotes by Cornelia Funke

There was another reason [she] took her books whenever they went away. They were her home when she was somewhere strange. They were familiar…

— Cornelia Funke

“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…

— Cornelia Funke

He put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her full on the mouth. His skin was wet with rain. When she didn't pull…

— Cornelia Funke

“For a moment Dustfinger felt as if he had never been away- as if he had simply had a bad dream, and the memory…

— Cornelia Funke

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

“And he will have a great aunt called Elinor who tells him there's a world not like this one. A world with neither fairies…

— Cornelia Funke

“Yes, Mo would come. Meggie could think of nothing else as Fenoglio led her away with him, his arm around her as if he…

— Cornelia Funke

When it came to hiding, even Gwin had nothing to teach Dustfinger. A strange sense of curiosity had always driven him to explore the…

— Cornelia Funke

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

— Cornelia Funke

Perhaps there's another, much larger story behind the printed one, a story that changes just as our own world does. And the letters on…

— Cornelia Funke

Mo could paint pictures in the empty air with his voice alone.

— Cornelia Funke

I remember the feeling. Whenever my father got so absorbed in a book that we might have been in visible I felt like taking…

— Cornelia Funke

I wish you luck,' she said, kissing him on the cheek. He still had the most beautiful eyes of any boy she'd ever seen.…

— Cornelia Funke

Because by now Elinor had understood this, too: A longing for books was nothing compared with what you could feel for human beings. The…

— Cornelia Funke

The night breathed through the apartment like a dark animal. The ticking of a clock. The groan of a floorboard as he slipped out…

— Cornelia Funke