欧宝娱乐

“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 the dead didn't mind what their names had once been?”
― cornelia funke inkdeath

“Os livros eram o 煤nico lugar onde havia compaix茫o, consolo, alegria... e amor. Os livros amavam a todos que os abriam, ofereciam prote莽茫o e amizade sem exigir nada em troca, e nunca iam embora, nunca, mesmo quando n茫o eram bem tratados. Amor, verdade, beleza, sabedoria e consolo perante a morte.”
― Cornelia Funke, Cora莽茫o de tinta (Mundo de Tinta Livro 1)

“the sly smile hides the broken heart”
― Cornelia Funke

“El libro se abri贸... Una r谩faga de viento amplificada por la quietud de la noche".”
― Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

“She began spending days on end in bed. She ate too little and then too much. Her stomach hurt, her head ached, her heart fluttered inside her. She was cross and absentminded and began crying like a crocodile over the most sentimental stories--because of course she went on reading. What else was there for her to do? She read and read and read, but she was stuffing herself with the letters on the page like an unhappy child stuffing itself with chocolate. They didn't taste bad, but she was still unhappy.”
― Cornelia Funke, Inkdeath

“He simply didn't see the world as it really was, that was the explanation - neither the world nor the people he felt so sorry for. Because if you did see them for what they were, what on earth would make you want to fight and even die for them?”
― Cornelia Funke, Inkdeath

“Las malas historias no despiertan a la vida. No hay ning煤n Dedo Polvoriento en ellas.”
― Cornelia Funke

“He had never taken any interest in what came after death, either in this world or the other one. Probably just silence, silence without a single word of comfort.”
― Cornelia Funke, Inkspell

“Didn't she feel, deep down inside, that her longing was sapping her strength and her appetite, even her pleasure in books? Longing.”
― Cornelia Funke, Inkdeath

“The hate he felt still tasted like love, but that didn't tame it.”
― Cornelia Funke, Inkdeath