Now, if we only had as many casks of butter as there are people here, then I would eat lots of butter!

My life will be the best illustration of all my work.

And the Top spoke no more of his old love; for that dies away when the beloved objects has lain for five years in a roof gutter and got wet through; yes, one does not know her again when one meets her in the dust box.

Far out in the ocean, where the water is as blue as the prettiest cornflower, and as clear as crystal, it is very, very deep; so deep, indeed, that no cable could fathom it: many church steeples, piled one upon another, would not reach from the ground beneath to the surface of the water above. There dwell the Sea King and his subjects.

My life is a lovely story, happy and full of incident.

Well, yes: people write poems when they are in love, but a wise man will not print them.

But a mermaid has no tears, and therefore she suffers so much more.