For him that stealeth, or borroweth and returneth not, this book from its owner, let it change into a serpent in his hand and rend him. Let him be struck with palsy, and all his members blasted. Let h...
Nothing is more frightening then a fear you cannot name.
In fairy tales, the heroes are punished when they run away from a task. The heroes, not their younger brothers...
Hope. Nothing is more intoxicating.
You make peace with one sister only to declare war on the other. It’s always like that with peace, isn’t it? Always to someone’s detriment, already sowing the seed for the next war.
Women were different, no doubt about it. Men broke so much more quickly. Grief didn't break women. Instead it wore them down, it hollowed them out very slowly.
Bücher liebten jeden, der sie aufschlug, schenkten Geborgenheit und Freundschaft und verlangten nichts dafür, gingen nie fort, niemals, selbst dann nicht, wenn man sie schlecht behandelte.
Guilt is a strong motivator, sometimes even stronger than love.
Children are caterpillars and adults are butterflies. No butterfly ever remembers what it felt like being a caterpillar.
She wanted to return to her dream. Perhaps it was still somewhere there behind her closed eyelids. Perhaps a little of its happiness still clung like gold dust to her lashes. Don't dreams in fairy tal...
Which skin shall I give you, Clara Ferber? Do you want fur? Do you want stone?
How ridiculous that water ran out of your eyes when your heart hurt. Tragic heroines in books tended to be amazingly beautiful. Not a word about swollen eyes or a red nose. Crying always gives me a re...
Wir sind alle Lügner, wenn es uns nützt.
You're the one who says books have to be heavy because the whole world's inside them...
The night belongs to beasts of prey, and always has. It's easy to forget that when you're indoors, protected by light and solid walls.
Nulla è eterno, Balbulus. E che cosa c'è di meglio, per le parole, che essere cantate in giro? Sì, certo, ogni volta mutano, hanno una melodia diversa. Ma non è questo il bello?
It was a chilly morning after the night's rain, and the sun hung in the sky like a pale coin lost by someone high up in the clouds.
Liebe ist eben genauso ungerecht verteilt auf dieser Welt wie Regen. Die einen kriegen entschieden zu viel davon ab und die anderen zu wenig. - Frieda
He bent over Farid and wiped some soot from his cold forehead. Roxanne knows it, he said. She'll tell it to you. Just go to her and... and tell her I've had to go away. Tell her I'm going to find out...
The sea always filled her with longing, though for what she was never sure.