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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: 65
Born: 1958
Born: December 10
Author
Illustrator
Screenwriter
Writer
Red
Thyme
Fast
Laborers
Lived
Bishops
Whose
Wretched
Growing
Prince
Written
Farmers
Lost
Buried
Hovels
Stories
Wild
Robed
More quotes by Cornelia Funke
Nothing is more terrifying than fearlessness.
Cornelia Funke
You know, it's a funny thing about writers. Most people don't stop to think of books being written by people much like themselves. They think that writers are all dead long ago--they don't expect to meet them in the street or out shopping. They know their stories but not their names, and certainly not their faces. And most writers like it that way.
Cornelia Funke
What on earth have you packed in here? Bricks? asked Mo as he carried Meggie's book-box out of the house. You're the one who says books have to be heavy because the whole world's inside them, said Meggie.
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
I remember the feeling. Whenever my father got so absorbed in a book that we might have been in visible I felt like taking a pair of scissors and cutting it up.
Cornelia Funke
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
Every reader knows about the feeling that characters in books seem more real than real people.
Cornelia Funke
What's the matter princess? Do you know the end of your story?
Cornelia Funke
I think we should sometimes read stories where everything's different from our world, don't you agree? There's nothing's like it for teaching us to wonder why trees are green and not red, and why we have five fingers rather than six.' --spoken by The Bluejay, aka Mo the Bookbinder, from 'Inkdeath
Cornelia Funke
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
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
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.
Cornelia Funke
Sometimes, when you're so sad you don't know what to do, it helps to be angry.
Cornelia Funke
He wants to be grown-up. How different dreams can be! Nature will soon grant your wish.
Cornelia Funke
Women were different, no doubt about it. Men broke so much more quickly. Grief didn't break women. Instead it wore them down, it hollowed them out very slowly.
Cornelia Funke
I just did a picture book called The Wildest Brother on Earth, and you will find both of my children in there.
Cornelia Funke
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
Hope. Nothing is more intoxicating.
Cornelia Funke
I have two Iceland horses, a very hairy dog called Looney, and a guinea pig.
Cornelia Funke
But after all, the villains are the salt in the soup of a story.
Cornelia Funke
