"I will try to write books until I drop dead."
- Cornelia Funke
"That bloody bastard! That thrice accursed son of a bitch!"
"Night was fading over the fields as if the rain had washed the darkness out of the hem of its garment."
"Secrets... nothing eats away at love faster."
"What was she hoping to gain from his death? That it would numb the pain of his betrayal, or heal her injured pride? Her red sister didn't know much about love."
"She felt as if the grave stones were whispering those names to her as she walked past... Those stones that bore no names seemed like closed mouths, sad mouths that forgotten how to speak. But perhaps ..."
"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."
"The sea always filled her with longing, though for what she was never sure."
"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..."
"Meggie thought this first whisper sounded a little different from one book to another, depending on weather or not she already knew the story it was going to tell her."