Quote

She had found him and was bringing back his thanks. Nor did she forget to mention that he had assured her that she was indeed the most beautiful fairy he had ever set eyes on.

Cornelia Funke

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Cornelia Funke
Age: 65
Born: 1958
Born: December 10
Author
Illustrator
Screenwriter
Writer
Assured
Found
Bringing
Beautiful
Fairy
Back
Thanks
Ever
Indeed
Eyes
Forget
Mention
Eye

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If I was a book, I would like to be a library book, so I would be taken home by all different sorts of kids.
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Why did death make life taste so much sweeter? Why could the heart love only what it could also lose?
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Reality is a fragile thing.
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Only in books could you find pity, comfort, happiness and love.
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Are you really going to catch us and take us back to Esther? We don’t belong to her, you know.” Embarrassed, Victor stared at his shoes. “Well, children all have to belong to somebody,” he muttered. “Do you belong to someone?” “That’s different.” “Because you’re a grown-up?
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I love to read aloud.
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Where did the love come from? What was it made of?
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Books are like flypaper, memories cling to the printed pages better than anything else.
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The Fairy's dress rustled as she turned. Human women dressed like flowers, layers of petals around a mortal, rotting core.
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Everyone is small at night.
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I just did a picture book called The Wildest Brother on Earth, and you will find both of my children in there.
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Sometimes, when you’re sad you don’t know what to do, it helps to be angry. But then the tears come back again all the same, and you fall asleep with the salty taste of them on your lips.
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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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She wanted to return to her dream. Perhaps it was still somewhere there behind her closed eyelids. Perhaps a little of its happiness still clung like gold dust to her lashes. Don't dreams in fairy tales sometimes leave a token behind?
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Many [book] even lay flat in the floor open. Their spines upward. Elinor couldn't bear to look! Didn't the monster know that was the way to break a book's neck?
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My son always says I like very weird music.
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We all know what fun it can be to get right into a book and live there for a while, but falling out of a story and suddenly finding yourself in this world doesn't seem to be much fun at all.
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My wife loves written words ... you know, words that stick to parchment and paper like dead flies, and it seems my father felt the same - but I want to hear words! Remember that when you are looking for the right words: You must ask yourself what they SOUND like! Glowing with passion, dark with sorrow, sweet with love, that's what I want. - Cosimo
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The heart was a weak, changeable thing, bent on nothing but love, and there could be no more fatal mistake than to make it your master. Reason must be in charge. It comforted you for the heart's foolishness, it sang mocking songs about love, derided it as a whim of nature, transient as flowers. So why did she still keep following her heart?
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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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