I love to read aloud.
I like to visit my horse, have a walk with my dog.
My son always says I like very weird music.
This book taught me, once and for all, how easily you can escape this world with the help of words! You can find friends between the pages of a book, wonderful friends.
I live in Hamburg; that's in the north. And I live on the outskirts of town. It looks like countryside.
And I always read the English translation and always have conversations with my translator, for example about the names. I always have to approve it.
I wish I had more time to visit schools.
I just did a picture book called The Wildest Brother on Earth, and you will find both of my children in there.
Dustfinger inspected his reddened fingers and felt the taut skin. ‘He might tell me how my story ends,’ he murmured. Meggie looked at him in astonishment. ‘You mean you don’t know?’ Dustfinger smiled. Meggie still didn’t particularly like his smile. It seemed to appear only to hide something else. ‘What’s so unusual about that, princess?’ he asked quietly. ‘Do you know how your story ends?’ Meggie had no answer for that.
When the heart craved something so forcefully, then reason became nothing but helpless observer.
Quite suddenly Meggie felt fear rise in her like black brackish water, she felt lost, terribly lost, she felt it in every part of her. She didn't belong here! What had she done?
My daughter, Anna, is almost 15, and my son, Ben, is almost 10.
Every German child learns to speak English in school.
And my father always took me to the library. We were both book addicts.
I remember the feeling. Whenever my father got so absorbed in a book that we might have been in visible I felt like taking a pair of scissors and cutting it up.
Everything gets to me. I'm very sentimental.
I always thought it hadn't influenced me very much, but I heard from many people from England that many motives from German fairytales are to be found in my books.
And there stood Basta with his foot already on another dead body, smiling. Why not? He had hit his target, and it was the target he had been aiming for all along: Dustfinger’s heart, his stupid heart. It broke in two as he held Farid in his arms, it simply broke in two, although he had taken such good care of it all these years.
Accursed, blasted, heartless things [books]! Full of empty promises, full of false lures, always making you hungry, never satisfying you, never!
Words are immortal - Elinor
How fast the ears learned to tell what sounds meant, much faster than it took the eyes to decipher written words.
Everyone is small at night.
The spoken word is nothing. It hardly lives longer than an insect! Only the written word is eternal. - Balbulus
you can not fully read a book without being alone. But through this very solitude you become intimately involved with people whom you might never have met otherwise, either because they have been dead for centuries or because they spoke languages you cannot understand. And, nonetheless, they have become your closest friends, your wisest advisors, the wizards that hypnotize you, the lovers you have always dreamed of. -Antonio munoz molinas, "the power of the pen
They wouldn't tell Scipio how much of the counterfeit cash was left since, as Riccio put it, 'You're a detective now, after all.
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