When it came to hiding, even Gwin had nothing to teach Dustfinger. A strange sense of curiosity had always driven him to explore the hidden, forgotten corners of this and any other place, and all that knowledge had now come in useful.
What was a slap for ten pages of escapism, ten pages far from everything that made him unhappy, ten pages of real life instead of the monotony that other people called the real world?
What’s the matter princess? Do you know the end of your story?
The night breathed through the apartment like a dark animal. The ticking of a clock. The groan of a floorboard as he slipped out of his room. All was drowned by its silence. But Jacob loved the night. He felt it on his skin like a promise. Like a cloak woven from freedom and danger.
The tent in which she first met him had smelled of blood, of the death she did not understand, and still she had thought of it all as a game. She had promised him the world. His flesh in the flesh of his enemies. And much too late had she realized what he had sown in her. Love. Worst of all poisons.
Neither Goyl nor men lived long enough to understand that yesterday was born of tomorrow, just as tomorrow was born of yesterday.
Sometimes, when you’re sad you don’t know what to do, it helps to be angry. But then the tears come back again all the same, and you fall asleep with the salty taste of them on your lips.
Words are immortal – Elinor.
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.
I just did a picture book called The Wildest Brother on Earth, and you will find both of my children in there.
I wish I had more time to visit schools.
Isn’t it odd how much fatter a book gets when you’ve read it several times?
Ten minutes can be a long time when you’re waiting with a beating heart for something you don’t understand, something you don’t really want to know.
I live in Hamburg; that’s in the north. And I live on the outskirts of town. It looks like countryside.
Yes, I do enjoy walking at night. The world’s more to my liking then, not so loud, not so fast, not so crowded, and a good deal more mysterious.
My grandmother told stories; she was very good at that.
I love to read aloud.
I will try to write books until I drop dead.
Second, there are so many magical places in books that you cant go to, like Hogwarts and Middle Earth, so I wanted to set a story in a place where children can actually go.
A thousand enemies outside the house are better than one within. Arab proverb.