Quote

Quite suddenly Meggie felt fear rise in her like black brackish water, she felt lost, terribly lost, she felt it in every part of her. She didn't belong here! What had she done?

Cornelia Funke

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Cornelia Funke
Age: 65
Born: 1958
Born: December 10
Author
Illustrator
Screenwriter
Writer
Felt
Belong
Didn
Suddenly
Part
Rise
Done
Quite
Every
Water
Like
Fear
Black
Brackish
Lost
Terribly

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Reality is a fragile thing.
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I have two Iceland horses, a very hairy dog called Looney, and a guinea pig.
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The spoken word is nothing. It hardly lives longer than an insect! Only the written word is eternal. - Balbulus
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Go back and rid the word of that book. Fill it with words before spring comes, or winter will never end for you. And I will take not only your life for the Adderhead's but your daughter's, too, because she helped you bind the book. Do you undersand, Bluejay Why two? asked Mo hoarsely. How can you ask for two lives in return for one?
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Why would we ever want to go back when your world is so accommodating with your telephones and your guns and what's that sticky stuff called ...duct tape.
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You really don't understand the first thing about writing...for one thing, early in the morning is the worst possible time. the brain is like a wet sponge at that hour. And for another, real writing is a question of staring into space and waiting for the right ideas.
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He flung his arms around her neck, but only once he saw Silvertoungue's back was turned. He never knew with fathers. I'll save him, Meggie! he wispered in her ear. I'll bring Dustfinger back. This story will have a happy ending.I swear!
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Her curiosity was too much for her. She felt almost as if she could hear the books whispering on the other side of the half-open door. They were promising her a thousand unknown stories, a thousand doors into worlds she had never seen before.
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Meggie Folchart: Having writer's block? Maybe I can help. Fenoglio: Oh yes, that's right. You want to be a writer, don't you? Meggie Folchart: You say that as if it's a bad thing. Fenoglio: Oh no, it's just a lonely thing. Sometimes the world you create on the page seems more friendly and alive than the world you actually live in.
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Words are immortal - Elinor
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Let's run away to Venice, and hide out in an old movie theater. We can dye our hair blonde, so no one will ever find us!
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Everyone is small at night.
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How fast the ears learned to tell what sounds meant, much faster than it took the eyes to decipher written words.
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They wouldn't tell Scipio how much of the counterfeit cash was left since, as Riccio put it, 'You're a detective now, after all.
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Nothing is more terrifying than fearlessness.
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She is a real bookworm. I think she lives on print. Her whole house is full of books - looks as if she likes them better than human company.
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Didn't books say that too: that there is always price to pay for happiness?
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Where did the love come from? What was it made of?
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The book she had been reading was under her pillow, pressing its cover against her ear as if to lure her back into its printed pages.
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The truth's not pretty of course. No one likes to look it in the face.
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