One day, you don't feel like doing anything. Nothing interests you, everything bores you. Feel more and more empty inside, more and more dissatisfied with yourself and the world in general. Then even that feeling wears off, and you don't… — Michael Ende Copy Share Image
Nothing can happen more than once, but everything must happen one day; Over hill and dale, wood and stream, my dying voice will blow away. . . — Michael Ende Copy Share Image
To be wise was to be above joy and sorrow, fear and pity, ambition and humiliation. It was to hate nothing and to love… — Michael Ende Copy Share Image
He had been through a good deal in the course of the Great Quest — he had seen beautiful things and horrible things —… — Michael Ende Copy Share Image
There were doors that looked like large keyholes, others that resembled the entrances to caves, there were golden doors, some were padded and some… — Michael Ende Copy Share Image
“Hasta entonces, todo había sido para él como un gran juego. Se lo había tomado tan en serio como se tomaba cualquier juego y… — Michael Ende Copy Share Image
Once someone dreams a dream, it can't just drop out of existence. But if the dreamer can't remember it, what becomes of it? It… — Michael Ende Copy Share Image
“And there in the snow lay the pictures, like jewels bedded in white silk. They were paper-thin sheets of colored transparent isin glass of… — Michael Ende Copy Share Image
There were thousands and thousands of forms of joy in the world, but that all were essentially one and the same, namely, the joy… — Michael Ende Copy Share Image
“A person’s reason for doing someone a good turn matters as much as the good turn itself.” — Michael Ende Copy Share Image
As they advanced (towards the fountain) one after another of Bastian's Fastastican gifts fell away from him. The strong, handsome, fearless hero became the… — Michael Ende Copy Share Image
You wish for something, you've wanted it for years, and you're sure you want it, as long as you know you can't have it.… — Michael Ende Copy Share Image
I wonder, what's in a book while it's closed. Oh, I know it's full of letters printed on paper, but all the same, something… — Michael Ende Copy Share Image
