Cornelia Funke Quotes

Sibling rivalry was, and still is to this day, rampant in my family. We were all competing for my parents' divided attention.

I had a very angry father and was disconnected from my family.

Our problems stem from our childhood. Ray was, for so long, the only boy. Then I arrive and take all his limelight away from him. That must have quite a profound effect. I sometimes think that Ray was only happy for three-and-a-half years in his life. And those were the three-and-a-half years before I was born.

My parents were singularly uninterested in me. My father was too self-centered and too busy with his own practice to pay a lot of attention to me, and my mother was probably deflected more by my sister.

Every day, I get into fights with my brother, who is the most annoying person on the planet.

If we are the younger, we may envy the older. If we are the older, we may feel that the younger is always being indulged. In otherwords, no matter what position we hold in family order of birth, we can prove beyond a doubt that we're being gypped.

Brenna jumped to her feet the second Father Sinclair entered the chamber. "I'm so happy to see you," she cried out. "Be happy sitting down," Jamie ordered, hovering over her patient like a mother hen.

In contrast to how my father treated me, I won't hit him, I won't call him evil, I'll give him affection, and I'll pay attention to him.

Jealousy was plainly exhibited when I fondled a large doll, and when I weighed his infant sister, he being then 15? months old. Seeing how strong a feeling of jealousy is in dogs, it would probably be exhibited by infants at any earlier age than just specified if they were tried in a fitting manner

The first time my mom found condoms in my room, she literally started crying hysterically.

I am Envy...I cannot read and therefore wish all books burned.

I think the father-son dynamic is interesting. I don't have a male friend who hasn't had some kind of conflict with their dad, and I don't have a male friend who hasn't had some kind of conflict with their son.

I don't know why it should be, I am sure; but the sight of another man asleep in bed when I am up, maddens me.

One win­ter, when I was 12, my older brother Frank (20) said to my father, 'We want you out of the house. We don't want any­thing other than the house we live in. We don't want any­thing from you. Just leave.' And he left.

My relationship with my father had been on the proverbial fritz since the time I was fifteen and called the police to report him for child molesting. He had never molested me, but I wanted to have a party that weekend and needed him out of the house.

I went to my father's at night. He spoke of poor John [Boswell's brother] with disgust. I was shocked and said, "He's your son, and God made him." He answered very harshly, "If my sons are idiots, can I help it?

She read books quickly and compulsively, paperback after paperback, as if she might drift away without the anchor of the printed page.

It was a dagger in the haughty father's heart, an arrow in his brain, to see how the flesh and blood he could not disown clung to this obscure stranger, and he sitting by. Not that he cared to whom his daughter turned, or from whom turned away. The swift sharp agony struck through him, as he thought of what his son might do.

There is only one person an English girl hates more than she hates her elder sister; and that is her mother.

Never having been able to succeed in the world, he took his revenge by speaking ill of it.

Farewell, Father," she said. He fell back upon his chair, choking. She laughed, not with mirth or even mockery, but something that was closer to a sob. "You crafted me so sharp, I cut even myself.

I grew to resent the way my father treated his furniture like children, and his children like furniture.

I liked my father a lot, but I didn't see him very often because my mother was bitter about him. He remarried, and I used to have to sneak off to see him.

I had older brothers who would pick on me, and injustice always boiled my blood.