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 FunkeMots clés love foolishness
Wasn't that what all stories said?You felt it, like a pang in your heart, when something was happening to someone you love
Cornelia FunkeThere is no need," Capricorn finally began, raising his voice, "for me to explain to most of you why the three prisoners you see there are to be punished. For the rest, it is enough for me to say it is for treachery, loose talk, and stupidity. One may argue, of course, over whether or not stupidity is a crime deserving of death. I think it is, for it can have exactly the same consequences as treachery.
Cornelia FunkeCan’t you imagine? Haven’t you told her about the place enough?” He tried the handle again, as if that could change anything. Meggie had covered the whole door with quotations. They looked to him now like magic spells written on the white paint in childish hand. Take me to another world! Go on! I know you can do it. My father has shown me how. Odd that your heart didn’t simply stop when it hurt so much.
Cornelia FunkeMots clés inspirational family fantasy touching
What’s so unusual about that, princess?” he asked quietly. “Do you know how your story ends?
Cornelia FunkeI hope you drop dead!” She screamed as Basta hauled her out of the room. “I hope you burn to death! I hope you suffocate in your own smoke!”
Basta laughed as he closed the door. “Just listen to this little wildcat!” He said. “I think I’ll have to watch my step with you around!
I’m sorry, Silvertongue, but the fact is I don’t believe anyone. You ought to know that by now. We’re all liars when it serves our purpose.
Cornelia FunkeAre 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?
My dear Elinor, you were obviously born into the wrong story,” said Dustfinger at last.
Cornelia FunkeBo : Prop's very brave and I'm
good at cheering him up, so
we make a good team.
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