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Words,words filled the night like the fragrance of invisible flowers.

Cornelia Funke

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Cornelia Funke
Age: 65
Born: 1958
Born: December 10
Author
Illustrator
Screenwriter
Writer
Fragrance
Flowers
Invisible
Filled
Flower
Words
Night
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Beauty and fear make uneasy companions
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I have two Iceland horses, a very hairy dog called Looney, and a guinea pig.
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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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Don't let it worry you, not being able to speak,'Dustfinger had often told her. 'People tend not to listen anyway, right?
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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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Memories, so sweet and bitter.. they had both nourished and devoured him for so many years. Until a time came when they began to fade, turning faint and blurred, only an ache to be quickly pushed away because it went to your heart. For what was the use of remembering all you had lost?
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I love to read aloud.
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Dustfinger still clearly remembered the feeling of being in love for the first time. How vulnerable his heart had suddenly been! Such a trembling, quivering thing, happy and miserably unhappy at once.
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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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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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Everyone is small at night.
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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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What a plague love is!
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Words are immortal - Elinor
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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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Only in books could you find pity, comfort, happiness and love.
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I always thought it hadn't influenced me very much, but I heard from many people from England that many motives from German fairytales are to be found in my books.
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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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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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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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