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And all you can do is just read, she said. She raised her voice an screamed, You just read and read and read! Then she threw herself down on the table and wept.

Tove Jansson

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Tove Jansson
Age: 86 †
Born: 1914
Born: August 9
Died: 2001
Died: June 27
Cartoonist
Illustrator
Novelist
Painter
Writer
Helsingfors
Tove Marika Jansson
Tove M. Jansson
Wept
Threw
Table
Tables
Raised
Read
Voice
Screamed

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I don't want to hear about them any more. I could vomit on the Moomintrolls.
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The hemulen woke up slowly and recognised himself and wished he had been someone he didn't know.
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Someone who eats pancakes and jam can't be so awfully dangerous. You can talk to him.
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The lamp sizzled as it burned. It made everything seem close and safe, a little family circle they all knew and trusted. Outside this circle lay everything that was strange and frightening, and the darkness seemed to reach higher and higher and further and further away, right to the end of the world.
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But he thought all the strange words were beautiful, and he had never had a book of his own before.
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When Mats came in the evenings, they would drink tea in the kitchen while reading their books and talking about them. If Katri came in, they were quiet and waited for her to leave. The back door would close, and Katri would have gone. “Does your sister read our books?” Anna wanted to know. “No. She reads literature.
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It's risky to talk about one's most secret dreams a bit too early.
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Gathering is peculiar, because you see nothing but what you're looking for. If you're picking raspberries, you see only what's red, and if you're looking for bones you see only the white. No matter where you go, the only thing you see is bones.
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Everyone must imagine his own snakes because no one else's snakes can ever be as awful.
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Lie on the bridge and watch the water flowing past. Or run, or wade through the swamp in your red boots. Or roll yourself up and listen to the rain falling on the roof. It's very easy to enjoy yourself.
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...now and then a giggling trail of mermaids appeared in our wake. We fed them oatmeal.
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...by and by a change came: I started to muse about the shape of my nose. I put my trivial surroundings aside and mused more and more about myself, and I found this to be a bewitching occupation. I stopped asking and longed instead to speak of my thoughts and feelings. Alas, there was no one besides myself who found me interesting.
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Christmas always rustled. It rustled every time, mysteriously, with silver and gold paper, tissue paper and a rich abundance of shiny paper, decorating and hiding everything and giving a feeling of reckless extravagance.
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All men have parties and are pals who never let each other down. A pal can say terrible things which are forgotten the next day. A pal never forgives, he just forgets, and a woman forgives but never forgets. That's how it is. That's why women aren't allowed to have parties. Being forgiven is very unpleasant.
Tove Jansson
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There's no need to imagine that you're a wondrous beauty, because that's what you are.
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You can't always be friendly. It's impossible, there isn't the time.
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You can't ever be really free if you admire somebody too much.
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It's funny about love', Sophia said. 'The more you love someone, the less he likes you back.' 'That's very true,' Grandmother observed. 'And so what do you do?' 'You go on loving,' said Sophia threateningly. 'You love harder and harder.
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I need to write down my observations. Even the tiniest ones they're the most important.
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... 'I've been doing everything for an awfully long time, and I've seen and lived as hard as I could, and it's been unbelievable, I tell you, unbelievable. But now I have the feeling everything's gliding away from me, and I don't remember, and I don't care, and yet now is right when I need it!'. [pp. 84-85]
Tove Jansson