Quotes by : Cornelia Funke

As Mo had said: writing stories is a kind of magic, too.

Dustfinger still clearly remembered the feeling of being in love for the first time. How vulnerable his....

He saw so many emotions mingled on her face: anger disappointment, fear – and defiance. Like her daughter,....

Stories always go on. They don't end on the last page any more than they begin on the first page

Words,words filled the night like the fragrance of invisible flowers.

All writers are insane!

The world was a terrible place, cruel, pitiless, dark as a bad dream. Not a good place to live. Only....

What was she hoping to gain from his death? That it would numb the pain of his betrayal, or heal her....

She felt as if the grave stones were whispering those names to her as she walked past... Those stones....

What was this yearning, tearing at her insides like hunger and thirst? It couldn't be love. Love was....