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

I love borders. August is the border between summer and autumn; it is the most beautiful month I know. Twilight is the border between day and night, and the shore is the border between sea and land. The border is longing: when both have fallen in love but still haven't said anything. The border is to be on the way. It is the way that is the most important thing.

It's a funny thing about bogs. You can fill them with rocks and sand and old logs and make a little fenced-in yard on top with a woodpile and chopping block - but bogs go right on behaving like bogs. Early in the spring they breathe ice and make their own mist, in remembrance of the time when they had black water and their own sedge blossoming untouched.

Everyone must imagine his own snakes because no one else's snakes can ever be as awful.

There are those who stay at home and those who go away, and it has always been so. Everyone can choose for himself, but he must choose while there is still time and never change his mind.

...now and then a giggling trail of mermaids appeared in our wake. We fed them oatmeal.

I love borders. August is the border between summer and autumn; it is the most beautiful month I know.