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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.
Cornelia Funke
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Cornelia Funke
Age: 66
Born: 1958
Born: December 10
Author
Illustrator
Screenwriter
Writer
Stories
Wild
Robed
Red
Thyme
Fast
Laborers
Lived
Bishops
Whose
Wretched
Growing
Prince
Written
Farmers
Lost
Buried
Hovels
More quotes by Cornelia Funke
How fast the ears learned to tell what sounds meant, much faster than it took the eyes to decipher written words.
Cornelia Funke
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?
Cornelia Funke
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.
Cornelia Funke
Believe, believe, believe
Cornelia Funke
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
Ten minutes can be a long time when you're waiting with a beating heart for something you don't understand, something you don't really want to know.
Cornelia Funke
Books are like flypaper, memories cling to the printed pages better than anything else.
Cornelia Funke
Don't let it worry you, not being able to speak,'Dustfinger had often told her. 'People tend not to listen anyway, right?
Cornelia Funke
Life was more difficult in Inkheart, yet it seemed to Meggie that with every new day Fenoglio's story was spinning a magic spell around her heart, sticky as a spider's web and enchantingly beautiful.
Cornelia Funke
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!
Cornelia Funke
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.
Cornelia Funke
What a plague love is!
Cornelia Funke
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?
Cornelia Funke
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
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!
Cornelia Funke
He longed for the deep as she longed for the night sky and for white lilies floating on water -- although she still tried to convince herself that love alone could feed her soul.
Cornelia Funke
It's a good idea to have your own books with you in a strange place
Cornelia Funke
Didn't books say that too: that there is always price to pay for happiness?
Cornelia Funke
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.
Cornelia Funke
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
