Every real story is a never ending story.
Some think their only hope of happiness lies in being someone else, and spend their whole lives traveling place to place.
Ungeheuer sind nun einmal notwendig, damit ein Held ein Held sein kann.
Solo su verdadero nombre hace reales a todos los seres y todas las cosas. Un nombre falso lo convierte todo en irreal. Eso es lo que hace la mentira.
Manche Dinge brauchen ihre Zeit – und Zeit war ja das Einzige, woran Momo reich war.
There are many kinds of loneliness, but Momo experienced one that only very few people know of, and that even fewer have experienced to the extent that Momo did. She felt like she was imprisoned in a treasure trove filled with priceless riches that continued to grow in number, threatening to suffocate her.
Yes, she thought about death because she had discovered something else as well: there are certain treasures that kill you if you can’t share them with others.
Und wer die Zeit der Menschen besitzt, der hat unbegrenzte Macht!
In the end, it was only a few months that passed this way, and yet it was the longest period of time that Momo had ever lived through. Time can’t simply be measured with a clock and a calendar, just as words alone can’t describe the kind of loneliness Momo knew in these months.
The Circle of Eternal Return was an end without an end.
Existe una cosa muy misteriosa, pero muy cotidiana. Todo el mundo participa de ella, todo el mundo la conoce, pero muy pocos se paran a pensar en ella. Casi todos se limitan a tomarla como viene, sin hacer preguntas. Esta cosa es el tiempo. Hay calendarios y relojes para medirlo, pero eso significa poco, porque todos sabemos que, a veces, una hora puede parecernos una eternidad, y otra, en cambio, pasa en un instante.
Luckdragons are creatures of air, warmth, and pure joy. Despite their great size, they are as light as a summer cloud, and consequently need no wings for flying. They swim in the air of heaven as fish swim in water.
Like all true transformations, it was as slow and gentle as the growth of a plant.
One day, you don’t feel like doing anything. Nothing interests you, everything bores you. Feel more and more empty inside, more and more dissatisfied with yourself and the world in general. Then even that feeling wears off, and you don’t feel anything anymore. You become completely indifferent to what goes on around you. You forget how to laugh and cry – you’re cold inside and incapable of loving anything or anyone. There’s no going back. The disease has a name. It’s called deadly tedium.
Beni sevmeyi unutma! Ben de seni seviyorum!
I wish everything would stay like this forever,’ he said. ‘The moment is forever,’ she replied.
You’d really do that?’ he blurted out. ‘You’d really set a hungry werewolf free? Do you know what that means? Nobody would be safe from me.’ ‘I know,’ said Atreyu. ‘But I’m Nobody. Why should I be afraid of you?
He rode by day and he rode by night, in the scorching sun and the pelting rain.
We’re old, son, much too old. Lived long enough. Seen too much. When you know as much as we do, nothing matters. Things just repeat. Day and night, summer and winter. The world is empty and aimless. Everything circles around.
The Childlike Empress has always been there. But she’s not old. She has always been young. She still is. Her life isn’t measured by time, but by names.
Bastian struggled for air. His heart pounded, it was not big enough for so great a longing.