Oh, I think every author is inspired by all of the books that she reads.
My grandmother told stories; she was very good at that.
They are shooting The Thief Lord in Venice at the moment.
Yes, I always imagined living in other places.
I always wanted to ride a dragon myself, so I decided to do this for a year in my imagination.
If I was a book, I would like to be a library book, so I would be taken home by all different sorts of kids.
We're all liars when it serves our purpose.
Every reader knows about the feeling that characters in books seem more real than real people.
You know, it's a funny thing about writers. Most people don't stop to think of books being written by people much like themselves. They think that writers are all dead long ago-they don't expect to meet them in the street or out shopping. They know their stories but not their names, and certainly not their faces. And most writers like it that way.
A library book, I imagine, is a happy book.
Nothing is more frightening than a fear you cannot name.
Women were different, no doubt about it. Men broke so much more quickly. Grief didn't break women. Instead it wore them down, it hollowed them out very slowly.
A reader doesn't really see the characters in a story; he feels them.
The world was a terrible place, cruel, pitiless, dark as a bad dream. Not a good place to live. Only in books could you find pity, comfort, happiness - and love. Books loved anyone who opened them, they gave you security and friendship and didn't ask anything in return; they never went away, never, not even when you treated them badly.
You know what they say: When people start burning books they'll soon burn human beings.
It's the same in real life: Notorious murderers get off scot-free and live happily all their lives, while good people die - sometimes the very best people. That's the way of the world.
Perhaps the story in the book is just the lid on a pan: It always stays the same, but underneath there's a whole world that goes on - developing and changing like our own world.
Sometimes Dustfinger thought Basta's constant fear of curses and sudden disaster probably arose from his terror of the darkness within himself, which made him assume that the rest of the world must be exactly the same.
There are not so many mythical creatures from Inkheart.
My wife loves written words ... you know, words that stick to parchment and paper like dead flies, and it seems my father felt the same - but I want to hear words! Remember that when you are looking for the right words: You must ask yourself what they SOUND like! Glowing with passion, dark with sorrow, sweet with love, that's what I want. - Cosimo
You know a great many things in dreams, often despite the evidence of your eyes. You just know them.
It's a good idea to have your own books with you in a strange place
If you keep pretending you're in that book, it will make you not want to live in the life you're in.
He longed for the deep as she longed for the night sky and for white lilies floating on water - although she still tried to convince herself that love alone could feed her soul.
Nothing is more terrifying than fearlessness.
The truth's not pretty of course. No one likes to look it in the face.
When you open a book it's like going to the theater first you see the curtain then it is pulled aside and the show begins.
I will try to write books until I drop dead.
I live in Hamburg; that's in the north. And I live on the outskirts of town. It looks like countryside.
I don't like to eat the same dish every day, so I read very different things.
My son always says I like very weird music.
I love to read, I love to watch movies, and I love to be with my children.
I like to visit my horse, have a walk with my dog.
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.
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 wish I had more time to visit schools.
Words are immortal - Elinor
Reality is a fragile thing.