Making a journey by night is more wonderful than anything in the world.

The hemulen woke up slowly and recognised himself and wished he had been someone he didn't know.

Most of the people are homesick anyway, and a little lonely, and they hide themselves in their hair and are turned into flowers.

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.

But that's how it is when you start wanting to have things. Now, I just look at them, and when I go away I carry them in my head. Then my hands are always free, because I don't have to carry a suitcase.

I mean, anyone can let Danger out but the really clever thing is finding somewhere for it to go afterwards.

For a while she considered being ill, but she changed her mind.