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Nothing chased nightmares away faster than the rustle of printed paper.

Cornelia Funke

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Cornelia Funke
Age: 65
Born: 1958
Born: December 10
Author
Illustrator
Screenwriter
Writer
Away
Nothing
Rustle
Chased
Nightmares
Printed
Nightmare
Faster
Paper

More quotes by Cornelia Funke

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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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I love to read aloud.
Cornelia Funke
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Perhaps the story in the book is just the lid on a pan: It always stays the same, but underneath there's a whole world that goes on - developing and changing like our own world.
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The night swallowed him up like a thieving fox.
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I have two Iceland horses, a very hairy dog called Looney, and a guinea pig.
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My son always says I like very weird music.
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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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What was a slap for ten pages of escapism, ten pages far from everything that made him unhappy, ten pages of real life instead of the monotony that other people called the real world?
Cornelia Funke
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A library book, I imagine, is a happy book.
Cornelia Funke
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I always wanted to ride a dragon myself, so I decided to do this for a year in my imagination.
Cornelia Funke
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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.
Cornelia Funke
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My children were all made from paper and printer's ink.
Cornelia Funke
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And there stood Basta with his foot already on another dead body, smiling. Why not? He had hit his target, and it was the target he had been aiming for all along: Dustfinger’s heart, his stupid heart. It broke in two as he held Farid in his arms, it simply broke in two, although he had taken such good care of it all these years.
Cornelia Funke
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The truth's not pretty of course. No one likes to look it in the face.
Cornelia Funke
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The night breathed through the apartment like a dark animal. The ticking of a clock. The groan of a floorboard as he slipped out of his room. All was drowned by its silence. But Jacob loved the night. He felt it on his skin like a promise. Like a cloak woven from freedom and danger.
Cornelia Funke
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Where did the love come from? What was it made of?
Cornelia Funke
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There could be few men whose love for a woman had been written on his face with a knife.
Cornelia Funke
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Let's be off before he gets his great horsey teeth into my poor lines of verse!
Cornelia Funke
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There are not so many mythical creatures from Inkheart.
Cornelia Funke
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Words are immortal - Elinor
Cornelia Funke