Nichts war grausamer als ein Herz aus Fleisch und Blut, weil es wusste, was Schmerzen bereitet.
Cornelia FunkeErwachsene erinnern sich nicht daran wie es war, ein Kind zu sein,
auch wenn sie es behaupten.
Sie wissen es nicht mehr. Glaub mir.
Sie haben alles vergessen. Wie viel größer ihnen die Welt damals erschien.
Das es mühsam sein konnte, auf einen Stuhl zu klettern. Wie fühlte es sich an, immer hoch zu blicken?
Vergessen. Sie wissen es nicht mehr. Du wirst es auch vergessen. Manchmal reden Erwachsene davon, wie schön es war, ein King zu sein. Sie träumen sogar davon, wieder eins zu sein. Doch was haben sie geträumt als sie Kinder waren?
Weißt du es? Ich glaube sie träumten davon, endlich erwachsen zu sein.
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Dustfinger inspected his reddened fingers and felt the taut skin. ‘He might tell me how my story ends,’ he murmured.
Meggie looked at him in astonishment. ‘You mean you don’t know?’
Dustfinger smiled. Meggie still didn’t particularly like his smile. It seemed to appear only to hide something else. ‘What’s so unusual about that, princess?’ he asked quietly. ‘Do you know how your story ends?’
Meggie had no answer for that.
Stichwörter: life
So Mo began filling the silence with words. He lured them out of the pages as if they had only been waiting for his voice, words long and short, words sharp and soft, cooing, purring words. They danced through the room, painting stained glass pictures, tickling the skin. Even when Meggie nodded off she could still hear them, although Mo had closed the book long ago. Words that explained the world to her, its dark side and its light side, words that built a wall to keep out bad dreams. And not a single bad dream came over that wall for the rest of the night.
Cornelia FunkeStichwörter: books
The Fairy's dress rustled as she turned. Human women dressed like flowers, layers of petals around a mortal, rotting core.
Cornelia FunkeStichwörter: dark-fairy
Sometimes, when you’re sad you don’t know what to do, it helps to be angry. But then the tears come back again all the same, and you fall asleep with the salty taste of them on your lips.
Cornelia FunkeWhy did death make life taste so much sweeter? Why could the heart love only what it could also lose?
Cornelia FunkeShe always did like tales of adventure-stories full of brightness and darkness. She could tell you the names of all King Arthur's knights, and she knew everything about Beowulf and Grendel, the ancient gods and the not-quite-so-ancient heroes. She liked pirate stories, too, but most of all she loved books that had at least a knight or a dragon or a fairy in them. She was always on the dragon's side by the way.
Cornelia FunkeStichwörter: mom
Don't let it worry you, not being able to speak,'Dustfinger had often told her. 'People tend not to listen anyway, right?
Cornelia FunkeStichwörter: inspirational
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.
Cornelia FunkeStichwörter: character personality skills abilities
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