No one saw firedrake as he made his escape along the canal.
Cornelia Funkea book always keeps something of its owner between its pages.
Cornelia FunkeTag: dragons-rock
Perhaps there's another, much larger story behind the printed one, a story that changes just as our own world does. And the letters on the page tell us only as much as we'd see peering through a keyhole. Perhaps the story in the book is just the lid on a pan: It always stays the same, but underneath there's a whole world that goes on - developing and changing like our own world.
Cornelia FunkeWhen you open a book it's like going to the theater first you see the curtain then it is pulled aside and the show begins.
Cornelia FunkeMostra la citazione in tedesco
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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 FunkeTag: inkdeath mortimer orpheus piper
From the tower battlements, Dustfinger looked down on a lake as black as night, where the reflection of the castle swam in a sea of stars. The wind passing over his unscarred face was cold from the snow of the surrounding mountains, and Dustfinger relished life as if he were tasting it for the first time. The longing it brought, and the desire. All the bitterness, all the sweetness, even if it was only for a while, never for more than a while, everything gained and lost, lost and found again.
Cornelia FunkeTag: dustfinger inkdeath
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
Hope. Nothing is more intoxicating.
Cornelia FunkeTag: inkdeath 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 FunkeI pledge to set out to live a thousand lives between printed pages.
I pledge to use books as doors to other minds, old and young, girl and boy, man and animal.
I pledge to use books to open windows to a thousand different worlds and to the thousand different faces of my own world.
I pledge to use books to make my universe spread much wider than the world I live in every day.
I pledge to treat my books like friends, visiting them all from time to time and keeping them close.
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