Цитаты из книги Coraline

While the days turn to dust and the leaves fall and the years pass one after the next like the tick-tick-ticking of a clock.

Flee, while there's still air in your lungs and blood in your veins and warmth in your heart. Flee while you still have your mind and your soul.

The names are the first things to go, after the breath has gone, and the beating of the heart. We keep our memories longer than our names.

Somewhere inside her Coraline could feel a huge sob welling up.

Still, the proudest spirit can be broken, with love.

It felt like she was walking into nothing. The world she was walking through was a pale nothingness.

There isn't anywhere but here.

There was something in the dark behind her: something very old and very slow.

We are small but we are many

We are many, we are small

We were here before you rose

We will be here when you fall.

She counted everything blue (153).

She counted the windows (21).

She counted the doors (14).

Больнее, чем укус змеи ранит дочерняя неблагодарность

She tried to whistle, but nothing happened, so she sang out loud instead, a song her father had made up for her when she was a little baby and which had always made her laugh. It went:
Oh… My twitchy witchy girl I think you are so nice, I give you bowls of porridge And I give you bowls of ice-cream.
I give you lots of kisses, And I give you lots of hugs, But I never give you sandwiches with bugs in.

“Please, what is this place?” The cat glanced around briefly. “Itʼs here,” said the cat.

He said that he wasnʼt scared when he was standing there and the wasps were stinging him and hurting him and he was watching me run away. Because he knew he had to give me enough time to run, or the wasps would have come after both of us.

-Итак, Коралина, - продолжила мисс Спинк, - как тебя зовут?
- Коралина, - ответила Коралина
- И мы не знакомы друг с другом, не так ли?

– Кто вы? – спросила Коралина.
– Имена, имена, имена, – растерянно и безнадежно произнес другой голос. – После того как прекращается дыхание и останавливается сердце, первыми исчезают имена. Наша память живет дольше, чем имена. Я до сих пор помню, как однажды майским утром моя няня вынесла мне во двор обруч и палку, все было залито утренним светом, а легкий ветерок раскачивал тюльпаны, растущие на клумбе. Но я забыл, как звали мою няню, забыл и имена тюльпанов.

– Лягушек, утят, носорогов, осьминогов – какие захочешь. Каждое утро ты будешь просыпаться во вновь созданном мире. Если ты останешься здесь, то получишь все, что захочешь.
– Неужели вы не понимаете? – сказала она. – Я не хочу получать все. Никто этого не хочет. Какая радость в том, что я получу все, что мне хочется? Просто так, ни за что? А что дальше?