"But you're too ready to believe what you want to believe..."

((I was bored, so I decided to entertain myself (and anyone else who decides to read our blog when they're bored) with an excerpt from Inkheart. One of my favorite books in the world.))
"You know what always got me down back in our old world, Dustfinger?" asked Capricorn as he took the gas can from Basta's hand. "The difficulty of lighting a fire. It wasn't any problem for you, of course, you could even talk to fire, very likely one of those grunting goblins taught you how, but it was a tedious business for the rest of us. The wood was always damp, or the wind blew down the chimney. I know you always long for the good old days, you miss all your chirping, fluttering friends, but I don't shed a tear for any of that. This world is far better equipped than the one we had to be content with for so many years."
Dustfinger did not seem to hear a word of what Capricorn was saying. He just stared at the gasoline and smelled its fumes as it was poured over the books. The pages sucked it up as greedily as if they were welcoming their own end.
"Where did they all come from?" he stammered. "You always told me there was just one copy left-Silvertongue's."
"yes, yes, I told you all kinds of things." Capricorn put his hand in his pants pocket. "You're such a gullible fellow, Dustfinger. It's fun to tell you lies. Your innocence always amazed me-after all, you lie very cleverly yourself. But you're too ready to believe what you want to believe, that's your trouble. Well, you can safely believe me now. These," he said, tapping the gasoline-soaked pile of books, "these really are the last copies of our ink-black home. It's taken Basta and the others years to track them all down in shabby lending libraries and secondhand bookshops."
Dustfinger looked longingly at the books as a man dying of thirst might look at the last glass of water in existence. "But you can't burn them!" he stammered. "You promised to send me back if I found you Silvertongue's book. That's why I told you where he was. That's why I brought you his daughter."
Capricorn merely shrugged his shoulders and took the book from Cockerell's hands-the book with the green binding that Meggie and Elinor had been so eager to give him, the book for which he had made his men bring Mo all this way, the book for which Dustfinger had betrayed them all.
"I'd have promised to fetch you down the moon from the sky if that would have done me any good," said Capricorn, looking bored as he flung the last copy of Inkheart onto the pile with its companions. "I'm happy to make promises, especially promises I can't keep." Then he took the lighter from his pocket.
(Okay, unfortunately, I didn't have the brain power to come up with all of these characters, the story and the characters with it are all Cornelia Funke. So, it's not mine, it's hers. MUAHAHAHA maybe I will get someone to buy the book, just because I posted this...hehe...)
~P. Megz OUT!!!