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If you have never wept bitter tears because a wonderful story has come to an end and you must take your leave of the characters with whom you have shared so many adventures, whom you have loved and admired, for whom you have hoped and feared, and without whose company life seems empty and meaningless. If such things have not been part of your own experience, you probably won't understand what Bastian did next. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 166 people liked it like Every real story is a never ending story. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 88 people liked it like Once someone dreams a dream, it can't just drop out of existence. But if the dreamer can't remember it, what becomes of it? It lives on in Fantastica, deep under earth. There are forgotten dreams stored in many layers. The deeper one digs, the closer they are. All Fantastica rests on a foundation of forgotten dreams. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story tags: the-neverending-story 74 people liked it like When it comes to controlling human beings there is no better instrument than lies. Because, you see, humans live by beliefs. And beliefs can be manipulated. The power to manipulate beliefs is the only thing that counts. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story tags: beliefs, lies, power 69 people liked it like ...it's like this. Sometimes, when you've a very long street ahead of you, you think how terribly long it is and feel sure you'll never get it swept. And then you start to hurry. You work faster and faster and every time you look up there seems to be just as much left to sweep as before, and you try even harder, and you panic, and in the end you're out of breath and have to stop--and still the street stretches away in front of you. That's not the way to do it. You must never think of the whole street at once, understand? You must only concentrate on the next step, the next breath, the next stroke of the broom, and the next, and the next. Nothing else. That way you enjoy your work, which is important, because then you make a good job of it.

And that's how it ought to be. And all at once, before you know it, you find you've swept the whole street clean, bit by bit. what's more, you aren't out of breath. That's important, too... (28-29) Michael Ende, Momo tags: zen 64 people liked it like If you have never spent whole afternoons with burning ears and rumpled hair, forgetting the world around you over a book, forgetting cold and hunger-If you have never read secretly under the bedclothes with a flashlight, because your father or mother or some other well-meaning person has switched off the lamp on the plausible ground that it was time to sleep because you had to get up so early-If you have never wept bitter tears because a wonderful story has come to an end and you must take your leave of the characters with whom you have shared so many adventures, whom you have loved and admired, for whom you have hoped and feared, and without whose company life seems empty and meaningless-If such things have not been part of your own experience, you probably won't understand what Bastian did next. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 63 people liked it like You wish for something, you've wanted it for years, and you're sure you want it, as long as you know you can't have it. But if all at once it looks as though your wish might come true, you suddenly find yourself wishing you had never wished for any such thing. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 60 people liked it like People never seemed to notice that, by saving time, they were losing something else. No one cared to admit that life was becoming ever poorer, bleaker and more monotonous. The ones who felt this most keenly were the children, because no one had time for them anymore. But time is life itself, and life resides in the human heart. And the more people saved, the less they had. Michael Ende 53 people liked it like Nothing is lost. . .Everything is transformed. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 51 people liked it like If you stop to think about it, youll have to admit that all the stories in the world consist essentially of twenty-six letters. The letters are always the same, only the arrangement varies. From letters words are formed, from words sentences, from sentences chapters, and from chapters stories. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 44 people liked it like

Bastion looked at the book. 'I wonder,' he said to himself, 'what's in a book while it's closed. Oh, I know it's full of letters printed on paper, but all the same, something must be happening, because as soon as I open it, there's a whole story with people I don't know yet and all kinds of adventures, deeds and battles. And sometimes there are storms at sea, or it takes you to strange cities and countries. All those things are somehow shut in a book. Of course you have to read it to find out. But it's already there, that's the funny thing. I just wish I knew how it could be.' Suddenly an almost festive mood came over him. He settled himself down, picked up the book, opened it to the first page, and began to read... Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 41 people liked it like You must let what happens happen. Everything must be equal in your eyes, good and evil, beautiful and ugly, foolish and wise. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 33 people liked it like But that is another story and shall be told another time. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 30 people liked it like There were thousands and thousands of forms of joy in the world, but that all were essentially one and the same, namely, the joy of being able to love. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 29 people liked it like There are many kinds of joy, but they all lead to one: the joy to be loved. Never-ending Story Michael Ende tags: allan-bard, fairy-tales, fantasy, michael-ende 28 people liked it like Life holds one great but quite commonplace mystery. Though shared by each of us and known to all, seldom rates a second thought. That mystery, which most of us take for granted and never think twice about, is time. Calendars and clocks exist to measure time, but that signifies little because we all know that an hour can seem as eternity or pass in a flash, according to how we spend it. Time is life itself, and life resides in the human heart. Michael Ende, Momo 26 people liked it like Wishes cannot be summoned up or kept away at will. They come from deeper within us than good or bad intentions. And they spring up unannounced. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 26 people liked it like Strange as it may seem, horror loses its power to frighten when repeated too often. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story

24 people liked it like Human passions have mysterious ways, in children as well as grown-ups. Those affected by them cant explain them, and those who havent known them have no understanding of them at all. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 22 people liked it like The Nothing is spreading," groaned the first. "It's growing and growing, there's more of it every day, if it's possible to speak of more nothing. All the others fled from Howling Forest in time, but we didn't want to leave our home. The Nothing caught us in our sleep and this is what it did to us." "Is it very painful?" Atreyu asked. "No," said the second bark troll, the one with the hole in his chest. "You don't feel a thing. There's just something missing. And once it gets hold of you, something more is missing every day. Soon there won't be anything left of us. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story tags: the-nothing 20 people liked it like Only the right name gives beings and things their reality. A wrong name makes everything unreal. That's what lies do. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 18 people liked it like Time is life itself, and life resides in the human heart. Michael Ende tags: from-momo 18 people liked it like Those who still think that listening isnt an art should see if they can do it half as well. Michael Ende, Momo 17 people liked it like And if someone felt that his life had been an utter failure, and that he himself was only one among millions of wholly unimportant people who could be replaced as easily as broken windowpanes, he would go and pour out his heart to Momo. And, even as he spoke, he would come to realize by some mysterious means that he was absolutely wrong: that there was only one person like himself in the whole world, and that, consequently, he mattered to the world in his own particular way. Such was Momo's talent for listening. Michael Ende tags: inspirational 16 people liked it like There are many kinds of delusion. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story

16 people liked it like A story can be new and yet tell about olden times. The past comes into existence with the story. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 16 people liked it like Wer niemals ganze Nachmittage lang mit glhenden Ohren und verstrubbeltem Haar ber einem Buch sa und las und las und die Welt um sich her verga, nicht mehr merkte, da er hungrig wurde oder fror Wer niemals heimlich beim Schein einer Taschenlampe unter der Bettdecke gelesen hat, weil Vater oder Mutter oder sonst irgendeine besorgte Person einem das Licht ausknipste mit der gutgemeinten Begrndung, man msse jetzt schlafen, da man doch morgen so frh aus den Federn sollte Wer niemals offen oder im geheimen bitterliche Trnen vergossen hat, weil eine wunderbare Geschichte zu Ende ging und man Abschied nehmen mute von den Gestalten, mit denen man gemeinsam so viele Abenteuer erlebt hatte, die man liebte und bewunderte, um die man gebangt und fr die man gehofft hatte, und ohne deren Gesellschaft einem das Leben leer und sinnlos schien Wer nichts von alledem aus eigener Erfahrung kennt, nun, der wird wahrscheinlich nicht begreifen knnen, was Bastian jetzt tat. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story tags: books, german, reading 15 people liked it like He wanted to be loved for being just what he was. In this community of Yskalnari there was harmony, but no love. He no longer wanted to be the greatest, strongest or cleverest. He had left all that far behind. He longed to be loved just as he was, good or bad, handsome or ugly, clever or stupid, with all his faults - or possibly because of them. But what was he actually? He no longer knew. So much have been given to him in Fantastica, and now, among all these gifts and powers, he could no longer find himself. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 13 people liked it like What will happen when my heart stops beating?" Momo asked. When that moment comes," said the professor, "time will stop for you as well. Or rather, you will retrace your steps through time, through all the days and nights, myths and years of your life, until you go out through the great, round, silver gate you entered by." What will I find on the other side?" The home of the music you've sometimes faintly heard in the distance, but by then you'll be part of it. You yourself will be a note in its mighty harmonies. Michael Ende tags: momo 13 people liked it like

He had been through a good deal in the course of the Great Quest he had seen beautiful things and horrible things but up until now he had not known that one and the same creature can be both, that beauty can be terrifying. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 11 people liked it like Human passions have mysterious ways, in children as well as grown-ups. Those affected by them can't explain them, and those who haven't known them have no understanding of them at all. Some people risk their lives to conquer a mountain peak. No one, not even they themselves, can really explain why. Others ruin themselves trying to win the heart of a certain person who wants nothing to do with them. Still others are destroyed by their devotion to the pleasures of the table. Some are so bent on winning a game of chance that they lose everything they own, and some sacrafice everything for a dream that can never come true. Some think their only hope of happiness lies in being somewhere else, and spend their whole lives traveling from place to place. And some find no rest until they have become powerful. In short, there are as many different passions as there are people. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 9 people liked it like It's asking us our names," Falkor reported. "I'm Atreyu!" Atreyu cried. "I'm Falkor!" cried Falkor. The boy without a name was silent. Atreyu looked at him, then took him by the hand and cried: "He's Bastian Balthazar Bux!" "It asks," Falkor translated, "why he doesn't speak for himself." "He can't," said Atreyu. "He has forgotten everything." Falkor listened again to the roaring of the fountain. "Without memory, it says, he cannot come in. The snakes won't let him through." Atreyu replied: "I have stored up everything he told us about himself and his world. I vouch for him." Falkor listened. "It wants to know by what right?" "I am his friend," said Atreyu. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story tags: friendship 9 people liked it like

There were doors that looked like large keyholes, others that resembled the entrances to caves, there were golden doors, some were padded and some were studded with nails, some were paper-thin and others as thick as the doors of treasure houses; there was one that looked like a giant's mouth and another that had to be opened like a drawbridge, one that suggested a big ear and one that was made of gingerbread, one that was shaped like an oven door, and one that had to be unbuttoned. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 9 people liked it like Mi existencia es incomprensible y ridcula Michael Ende, Mirror In The Mirror tags: existence, inspirational 8 people liked it like For a while Bastian stood motionless. He was so stunned by what he had just heard that he couldn't decide what to do... What he had hoped was his ruin and what he had feared his salvation. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 8 people liked it like My will can control anything thats empty. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 8 people liked it like Reluctantly Bastian's thoughts turned back to reality. He was glad the Neverending Story had nothing to do with that. He didn't like books in which dull, cranky writers describe humdrum events in the very humdrum lives of humdrum people. Reality gave him enough of that kind of thing, why should he read about it? Besides, he couldn't stand it when a writer tried to convince him of something. And these humdrum books, it seemed to him, were always trying to do just that. Bastian liked books that were exciting or funny, or that made him dream. Books where madeup characters had marvelous adventures, books that made him imagine all sorts of things. Because one thing he was good at, possibly the only thing, was imagining things so clearly that he almost saw and heard them. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 8 people liked it like When a person is only half an ass like me, and not a complete one, she senses certain things. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 7 people liked it like Bastian had climbed a dune of purplish-red sand and all around him he saw nothing but hill after hill of every imaginable color. Each hill revealed a shade or tint that occured in no other. The nearest was cobalt blue, another was saffron yellow, then came crimson red, then indigo, apple green, sky blue, orange, peach, mauve, turquoise blue, lilac, moss green, ruby red, burnt umber, Indian yellow, vermillion, lapis lazuli, and so on from horizon to horizon. And between the hill, separating color from color, flowed streams of gold and silver sand. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 7 people liked it

like You see, Momo... it's like this. Sometimes, when you've a very long street ahead of you, you think how terribly long it is and feel sure you'll never get it swept... And then you hurry. You work faster and faster, and every time you look up there seems to be just as much to sweep as before, and you try even harder, and you panic, and in the end you're out of breath and have to stop-and still the street stretches away in from of you. Michael Ende 6 people liked it like Man kann davon berzeugt sein, sich etwas zu wnschen - vielleicht jahrelang - solang man wei, dass der Wunsch unerfllbar ist. Steht man aber pltzlich vor der Mglichkeit, dass der Wunschtraum Wirklichkeit wird, dann wnscht man sich nur noch eins: Man htte es sich nie gewnscht. Michael Ende, Die unendliche Geschichte tags: truth 6 people liked it like Once someone dreams a dream, it can't just drop out of existence. But if the dreamer can't remember it, what becomes of it? Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 6 people liked it like But that's another story and shall be told another time Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 5 people liked it like They look like good, strong hands. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 5 people liked it like Just as the setting sun turned the clouds to liquid gold. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 5 people liked it like Nothing can happen more than once, but everything must happen one day; Over hill and dale, wood and stream, my dying voice will blow away. . . Michael Ende 4 people liked it like As they advanced (towards the fountain) one after another of Bastian's Fastastican gifts fell away from him. The strong, handsome, fearless hero became the small, fat, timid boy. (...) But then he jumped into the crystal-clear water... He drank till his thrist was quenched. And joy filled him from head to foot, the joy of living and the joy of being himself. He was new born. And the best part of it was that he was now the very person he wanted to be. If he had been free to choose, he would have chosen to be no one else. Michael Ende, The Neverending Story 4 people liked it like

I did everything wrong," he said. "I misunderstood everything. Moon Child gave me so much, and all I did with it was harm, harm to myself and harm to Fantastica." Dame Eyola gave him a long look. No," she said. "I don't believe so. You went the way of wishes, and that is never straight. You went the long way around, but that was your way. And do you know why? Because you are one of those who can't go back until they have found the fountain from which springs the Water of Life. And that's the most secret place in Fantastica. There's no simple way of getting there." After a short silence she added: "But every way that leads there is the right one. Michael Ende tags: neverending-story 4 people liked it like Porque el tiempo es vida, y la vida nace en el corazn. Michael Ende 3 people liked it like Es gibt viele Arten von Einsamkeit, aber Momo erlebte eine, die wohl nur wenige Menschen kennengelernt haben, und die wenigsten mit solcher Gewalt. Michael Ende, Momo 3 people liked it like previous 1 2 next All Quotes | Add A Quote Find quotes Play The 'Guess That Quote' Game

Books by Michael Ende

The Neverending Story 32,732 ratings buy a copy

Momo 6,697 ratings buy a copy

Jim Knopf und Lukas der Lokomotivfhrer 903 ratings buy a copy

The Night of Wishes 835 ratings buy a copy More