Quite, quite,' she thought with a little sigh. 'It's always like this in their adventures. To save and be saved. I wish somebody would write a story sometime about the people who warm up the heroes afterward.
Tove JanssonThe quiet transition from autumn to winter is not a bad time at all. It's a time for protecting and securing things and for making sure you've got in as many supplies as you can. It's nice to gather together everything you possess as close to you as possible, to store up your warmth and your thoughts and burrow yourself into a deep hole inside, a core of safety where you can defend what is important and precious and your very own. Then the cold and the storms and the darkness can do their worst. They can grope their way up the walls looking for a way in, but they won't find one, everything is shut, and you sit inside, laughing in your warmth and your solitude, for you have had foresight.
Tove JanssonSmell is important. It reminds a person of all the things he's been through; it is a sheath of memories and security.
Tove JanssonMots clés smell
There are such a lot of things that have no place in summer and autumn and spring. Everything that’s a little shy and a little rum. Some kinds of night animals and people that don’t fit in with others and that nobody really believes in. They keep out of the way all the year. And then when everything’s quiet and white and the nights are long and most people are asleep—then they appear.
Tove JanssonMots clés winter outsiders introverts
Allting blir svårt när man vill äga saker, bära dem med sig och ha dem. Jag bara tittar på dem och när jag går min väg har jag dem inne i huvudet och kan ha roligare saker för mig än att bära kappsäckar.
Tove JanssonFly! ropade muminmamman. Polisen är här!
Hon visste inte vad hennes mumintroll hade gjort men var alldeles säker på att hon gillade det.
Един остров може да бъде ужасен за човек, дошъл отвън. Всичко е завършено, всеки има своето място, своенравно, спокойно и самодостатъчно. Между бреговете му всичко тече според ритуали, вкаменени от повторение, и в същото време обитателите му прекарват дните си толкова непостоянно и случайно, сякаш светът свършва зад хоризонта.
Tove Jansson- Странно нещо е любовта - каза София. -Колкото повече обичаш другия,толкова по-малко те харесва той.
- Съвсем правилно - отбеляза бабата. - А какво се прави в такъв случай?
- Продължаваш да обичаш - отговори София заплашително. - Обичаш все повече и повече.
Баба ѝ въздъхна и не каза нищо.
Не гледай толкова ядосано - прошепна бабата. - Това е социален живот и трябва да се изтърпи.
Tove JanssonТя се обърна към стената и продължи да чете книгата си. И двете бяха станали невъзможни и вече не можеха да общуват помежду си, караха се неправилно.
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