Author of quotes: Cornelia Funke. Page 2

Children are caterpillars and adults are butterflies. And no, the butterfly does not remember what it was - crawl caterpillar.

What is the point of having a voice if no one can hear you?

Shake me! Hit me! Punish me! says his eyes. Or pick me up. I'm scared.

How much darkness can make a baby before this darkness will dwell in it forever?

Immortal makes you only death.

The dead bring bad dreams. They are whispering all sorts of horrors, and then fall to your chest listening to your heart. It seems then that they are alive again!

Reality is a fragile thing.

Man loses what he loves. This is the death.

If someone steals a book or does not return their borrowed time, let them turn the book in his hands at the creeping reptile, and enough of his shock, and numb all its members. And Yes, he will shout loudly, asking for mercy, and let not the agony of its end. Let bookworms gnaw his entrails, and the last sentence will be eternal Hell fire.

People are looking for in the books exactly that: strong, never experienced feelings and painful suffering, which can be removed at any time, simply slamming the book.

Secrets... Nothing erodes love.

Words good for nothing. Yes, sometimes they sound great, but at the right moment leave you in the lurch. The right words will never pick up, and where to find them? It is the heart that Nemo-like fish, no matter how hard the language, trying to give his speech.

Why sad stories often so beautiful? In life it is not.

It's really weird that if a book read a few times, it becomes much thicker? Like whenever you read something between the pages. Feelings, thoughts, sounds, smells... And when you many years later again leaf through the book, you find yourself a little younger, a little like now that the book kept you safe between the pages like a pressed flower - together of the familiar and the alien.