You must go on a long journey before you can really find out how wonderful home is.

It is still summer, but the summer is no longer alive. It has come to a standstill; nothing withers, and fall is not ready to begin. There are no stars yet, just darkness.

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

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

Everything's much too big here,' thought Moominmamma. 'Or perhaps I'm too small.

You can't ever be really free if you admire somebody too much.

I need to write down my observations. Even the tiniest ones; they're the most important.