“ The unicorns lifted their heads. Of course they weren't white. Why were things in this world always white-washed? Their hides were brown and grey, mottled black, and pale yellow like the autumn sun dr… Cornelia Funke
“ The books in Mo and Meggie's house were stacked under tables, on chairs, in the corners of the rooms. There where books in the kitchen and books in the lavatory. Books on the TV set and in the closet,… Cornelia Funke
“ The Fairy looked at the broken glass around her feet. Her shattered cage. And the one who’d put her in it was far, far away. But, no, she had caged herself. Cornelia Funke
“ 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 Funke
“ She’d been so certain she knew every crevice of his heart, but Jacob was like a country she’d only traveled through halfway. Cornelia Funke
“ She had only to open a door, nothing but a door between the words,just large enough for her and Farid to pass through.... Cornelia Funke
“ Perhaps, after all, this world was made of dreams, and an old man had merely found the words for them. Cornelia Funke
“ Non c'è niente che sappia consolare meglio di qualche pagina ben scritta quando sei lontano da casa, vero? Cornelia Funke
“ I know why you're here ... This world doesn't frighten you half as much as the other one. You have nothing and nobody to lose here. Except Fox, and she clearly worries more about you than you do about… Cornelia Funke
“ He looked so glorious. Just like the knights I had dreamed about when I was six years old, whacking at brambles iin our garden, imagining I was fighting dragons and giants with a sword that made me in… Cornelia Funke
“ Ciò che un libro avrebbe potuto raccontarle non l'aveva mai intimorita. Anzi, di solito non vedeva l'ora di lasciarsi trasportare in un mondo nuovo, inesplorato, e la sua curiosità era tale che si met… Cornelia Funke
“ And this time he would have said it, right? I love you. So much. Too much. But that was forbidden. For all time. The Elf would take his heart in payment. Cornelia Funke
“ The poem you brought yesterday,’ said Balbulus in a bored voice as he bent over his work again, ‘it was good. You ought to write such things more often, but I know you prefer writing stories for child… Cornelia Funke
“ The books in Mo and Meggie’s house were stacked under tables, on chairs, in the corners of the rooms. There were books in the kitchen and books in the lavatory. Books on the TV set and in the closet,… Cornelia Funke
