At times he thought he could clearly see the trail that Snufkin had made on the sodden ground. The tracks skipped and danced here and there, and were difficult to follow. On occasion they took great leaps and even crossed paths. “He must have been feeling quite happy,” thought Moomintroll. “I believe that right here he has even done a somersault.

“What is it?” said Moomintroll. Discoveries were his very favourite thing (after mysterious paths, swimming and secrets, that is).

I think I’m beginning to understand now,” said Moomintroll slowly. “You aren’t a collector any longer, are you? Now you are just an owner. That’s nowhere near as much fun.” “No,” said the Hemulen thoroughly dejected. “It is most decidedly nowhere near as much fun.

Lie on the bridge and watch the water flowing past. Or run, or wade through the swamp in your red boots. Or roll yourself up and listen to the rain falling on the roof. It’s very easy to enjoy yourself.

“A theatre is the most important sort of house in the world, because that’s where people are shown what they could be if they wanted, and what they’d like to be if they dared to and what they really are.”

Snorkmaiden stood with her ears drooping. Moomintroll pressed his snout against hers and said, “There’s no need to pretend that you are radiantly beautiful, because you are. Don’t worry, we can play ‘damsel in distress’ tomorrow instead.”

It looks rather ordinary,” said the Snork. “Unless you consider that a top hat is always somewhat extraordinary, of course.

I feel rather nice, and I like truth when it isn’t too boring.

Listen, take off your dress for a minute will you? said the Snork. What? said the Hemulen. Take off my dress? Yes, they all shouted. We want to make a balloon out of it.

Gee! cried the Muddler. Dear me, I have lots and lots to do! Such a long journey… such a new life… And the Muddler rushed off spattering paint in all directions