“A longing for books [is] nothing compared with what you [can] feel for human beings. The books [tell] you about that feeling.… — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
“Elinor had read countless stories in which the main characters fell sick at some point because they were so unhappy. She had… — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
Isn't it odd how much fatter a book gets when you've read it several times? — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
He longed for the deep as she longed for the night sky and for white lilies floating on water -- although she… — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
“He felt Death reaching out to him. But all of a sudden there was something else, too: words. Words that relieved the… — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
In love - it sounded like a sickness without any cure, and wasn't that just how it sometimes felt? — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
“What was this yearning, tearing at her insides like hunger and thirst? It couldn't be love. Love was warm and soft, like… — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
The heart was a weak, changeable thing, bent on nothing but love, and there could be no more fatal mistake than to… — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
She pressed her hand against her chest. No heart. So where did the love she felt come from? — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
Fire and water," he said, "don't really mix. You could say they're incompatible. But when they do love each other, they love… — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
I like a composer called Henry Purcell, and I love to listen to Neil Young. — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
There could be few men whose love for a woman had been written on his face with a knife. — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
I love to read, I love to watch movies, and I love to be with my children. — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
“What was she hoping to gain from his death? That it would numb the pain of his betrayal, or heal her injured… — 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
My wife loves written words ... you know, words that stick to parchment and paper like dead flies, and it seems my… — 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
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 Copy Share Image
“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 Copy Share Image
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 Copy Share Image
“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 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
“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 Copy Share Image
“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 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 explore the… — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
Because fear kills everything," Mo had once told her. "Your mind, your heart, your imagination. — Cornelia Funke Copy Share Image
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 Copy Share Image
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 Copy Share Image
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