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.”
It’s funny about love’, Sophia said. ‘The more you love someone, the less he likes you back.’
‘That’s very true,’ Grandmother observed. ‘And so what do you do?’
‘You go on loving,’ said Sophia threateningly. ‘You love harder and harder.
One summer morning at sunrise a long time ago
I met a little girl with a book under her arm.
I asked her why she was out so early and
she answered that there were too many books and
far too little time. And there she was absolutely right.
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.”