It’s strange,” Moominmamma thought. “Strange that people can be sad, and even angry because life is too easy. But that’s the way it is, I suppose. The only thing to do is to start life afresh.

Maybe my passion is nothing special, but at least it's mine.

I'll have to calm down a bit. Or else I'll burst with happiness

I don't want to hear about them any more. I could vomit on the Moomintrolls.

But he thought all the strange words were beautiful, and he had never had a book of his own before.

He didn't remember, he didn't worry, he just was.

Grandmother walked up over the bare granite and thought about birds in general. It seemed to her no other creature had the same dramatic capacity to underline and perfect events - the shifts in the seasons and the weather, the changes that run through people themselves.