Quote

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?

Cornelia Funke

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Cornelia Funke
Age: 66
Born: 1958
Born: December 10
Author
Illustrator
Screenwriter
Writer
Looks
Bear
Monster
Many
Bears
Flat
Even
Couldn
Neck
Way
Open
Flats
Elinor
Break
Necks
Spines
Didn
Floor
Upward
Look
Monsters
Book
Lays
Spine

More quotes by Cornelia Funke

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Books are like flypaper, memories cling to the printed pages better than anything else.
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Words are immortal - Elinor
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Nothing is more terrifying than fearlessness.
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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 away, he took her face between his hands and kissed her again, on her forehead, on her nose, on her mouth once more. You will come, won't you? Promisse! he whispered.
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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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He wants to be grown-up. How different dreams can be! Nature will soon grant your wish.
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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?
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Words were useless. At times, they might sound wonderful, but they let you down the moment you really needed them. You could never find the right words, never, and where would you look for them? The heart is as silent as a fish, however much the tongue tries to give it a voice.
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And I always read the English translation and always have conversations with my translator, for example about the names. I always have to approve it.
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So it's happened, I kept thinking, you're in the middle of a story exactly as you've always wanted, and it's horrible. Fear tastes quite different when you're not just reading about it, Meggie, and playing hero wasn't half as much fun as I'd expected.
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When it came to hiding, even Gwin had nothing to teach Dustfinger. A strange sense of curiosity had always driven him to explore the hidden, forgotten corners of this and any other place, and all that knowledge had now come in useful.
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But after all, the villains are the salt in the soup of a story.
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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.
Cornelia Funke
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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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No prince had lived in those wretched hovels, no red-robed bishops, only farmers and laborers whose stories no one had written down, and now they were lost, buried under wild thyme and fast growing spurge.
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Mortimer's face twisted when the Piper pressed his knife against his ribs. Oh yes, he's obviously made the wrong enemies in this story, thought Orpheus. And the wrong friends. But that was high-minded heroes for you. Stupid.
Cornelia Funke
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Believe, believe, believe
Cornelia Funke
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Everyone is small at night.
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Where did the love come from? What was it made of?
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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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