Tove Jansson Quotes

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.

I only want to live in peace, plant potatoes and dream!

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

It is simply this: do not tire, never lose interest, never grow indifferent—lose your invaluable curiosity and you let yourself die. It's as simple as that.

Maybe my passion is nothing special, but at least it's mine. - An Eightieth Birthday

All things are so very uncertain, and that's exactly what makes me feel reassured.

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

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 was a particularly good evening to begin a book.

A theatre is the most important sort of house in the world, because that's where people are shown what they could be if they wanted, and what they'd like to be if they dared to and what they really are

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.

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.

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

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.

Someone who eats pancakes and jam can’t be so awfully dangerous. You can talk to him.

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

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

There's no need to imagine that you're a wondrous beauty, because that's what you are.

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.

The thing about God, she thought, is that He usually does help, but not until you've made an effort on your own.

Smell is important. It reminds a person of all the things he's been through; it is a sheath of memories and security.

Quite, quite,' she thought with a little sigh. 'It's always like this in their adventures. To save and be saved. I wish somebody would write a story sometime about the people who warm up the heroes afterward.

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

It's funny about paths and rivers," he mused. "You see them go by, and suddenly you feel upset and want to be somewhere else--wherever the path or the river is going, perhaps.

There are such a lot of things that have no place in summer and autumn and spring. Everything that’s a little shy and a little rum. Some kinds of night animals and people that don’t fit in with others and that nobody really believes in. They keep out of the way all the year. And then when everything’s quiet and white and the nights are long and most people are asleep—then they appear.

On niitä jotka jäävät ja toisia jotka lähtevät, niin on ollut aina. Kukin saa valita itse, mutta on valittava ajoissa, eikä koskaan saa antaa periksi.

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

The main thing in life is to know your own mind.

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.

It’s only the sea,’ said Moomintroll. ‘Every wave that dies on the beach sings a little song to a shell. But you mustn’t go inside because it’s a labyrinth and you may never come out again.

It looks rather ordinary," said the Snork. "Unless you consider that a top hat is always somewhat extraordinary, of course.

Why are you in such a rush?" Sophia asked, and her grandmother answered that it was a good idea to do things before you forgot that they had to be done.

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.

A very long time ago, Grandmother had wanted to tell about all the things they did, but no one had bothered to ask. And now she had lost the urge.

He was the owner of the moonlight on the ground, he fell in love with the most beautiful of the trees, he made wreaths of leaves and strung them around his neck.

Wise as she was, she realized that people can postpone their rebellious phases until they're eighty-five years old, and she decided to keep an eye on herself.

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

Every year, the bright Scandinavian summer nights fade without anyone's noticing. One evening in August you have an errand outdoors, and all of a sudden it's pitch-black. It is still summer, but the summer is no longer alive.

She started thinking about all the euphemisms for death, all the anxious taboos that had always fascinated her. It was too bad you could never have an intelligent discussion on the subject. People were either too young or too old, or else they didn't have time.

The quiet transition from autumn to winter is not a bad time at all. It's a time for protecting and securing things and for making sure you've got in as many supplies as you can. It's nice to gather together everything you possess as close to you as possible, to store up your warmth and your thoughts and burrow yourself into a deep hole inside, a core of safety where you can defend what is important and precious and your very own. Then the cold and the storms and the darkness can do their worst. They can grope their way up the walls looking for a way in, but they won't find one, everything is shut, and you sit inside, laughing in your warmth and your solitude, for you have had foresight.

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

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.

An island can be dreadful for someone from outside. Everything is complete, and everyone has his obstinate, sure and self-sufficient place. Within their shores, everything functions according to rituals that are as hard as rock from repetition, and at the same time they amble through their days as whimsically and casually as if the world ended at the horizon.

I want your first trip to be with me. I want to show you cities and landscapes and teach you how to look at things in new ways and how to get along in places you don't already know inside out. I want to put some life in you...

Don’t worry we shall have wonderful dreams, and when we wake up it’ll be spring.

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

My bag was as light as my happy-go-lucky heart.

One has to discover everything for oneself. And get over it all alone.

It was simply that she was only fully alive when she devoted herself to her singular ability to draw, and when she drew she was naturally always alone.

There are empty spaces that must be respected – those often long periods when a person can’t see the pictures or find the words and needs to be left alone.

Täytyy pitää kiirettä, että ennättää elää, minulta on mennyt kovin paljon aikaa hukkaan!

Moominpappa: "Tell us all that's happening out in the world!" Snufkin: "Fuss and misery." - from "Moomin and Family Life" comic strip

The spirit of adventure sped through his soul on mighty wings.

One must use the night.

The voice of the waves was now mixed with strange sounds; laughter, running feet and the clanging of great bells far out to sea. Snufkin lay still and listened. dreaming and remembering his trip round world. Soon I must set out again, he thought. But not yet.

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.

Sometimes people never saw things clearly until it was too late and they no longer had the strength to start again. Or else they forgot their idea along the way and didn't even realize that they had forgotten

‎''Just think, never to be glad or disappointed. Never to like anyone and get cross at him and forgive him. Never to sleep or feel cold, never to make a mistake and have a stomach-ache and be cured from it, never to have a birthday party, drink beer, and have a bad conscience... How terrible.

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

The Hemulen, moaning piteously, thrust his nose into the sand. "This has gone too far!" he said. "Why can't a poor innocent botanist live his life in peace and quiet?" "Life is not peaceful," said Snufkin, contentedly.

They were always doing something. Quietly, without interruption, and with great concentration, they carried on with the hundred-and-one small things that made up their world.

you can't depend on people who just let things happen

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.

Where's your home then?" asked the Snork Maiden. "Nowhere," said Snufkin a little sadly, "or everywhere. It depends how you look at it.

I'm afraid we shall waste an awful lot of time." "Don't worry," answered Snufkin, "we shall have wonderful dreams, and when we wake up it'll be spring.

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

Om man är arg så är man arg, konstaterade lilla My och skalade sin potatis med tänderna. Man ska vara arg ibland, vartenda knytt har rätt att vara ilsket.

Even potted plants got to be a responsibility, like everything else you took care of that couldn't make decisions for itself.

Sellaista henkilöä kohtaan tunnetaan aina kunnioitusta, joka osaa pitää suunsa kiinni. Luullaan että sellainen tietää paljon ja elää hirveän jännittävästi.

Some people just shouldn't be disturbed in their inclinations, whether large or small. A reminder can instantly turn enthusiasm into aversion and spoil everything.

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

Why do you smile all the time?" he said. "Because I am looking at you," she said

My dear child," said Grandmother impatiently, "every human being has to make his own mistakes." She was very tired, and wanted to get home.

When one’s dead, one’s dead… This squirrel will become earth all in his time. And still later on, there’ll grow new trees from him, with new squirrels skipping about in them. Do you think that’s so very sad?

Isn't it fun when one's friends get exactly what suits them?

I don’t want friends who are kind without really liking me and I don’t want anybody who is kind just so as not to be unpleasant.

Mutta voi, miten ihanaa on hiljaisena hetkenä juuri ennen auringon nousua mennä kotiin nukkumaan kun syömiset on syöty, juomiset juotu, puhumiset puhuttu ja tanssittu jalat väsyksiin.

It's finished. There isn't a stamp, or an error that I haven't collected. Not one. What shall I do now?" "I think I'm beginning to understand," said Moomintroll slowly. "You aren't a collector anymore, you're only an owner, and that isn't nearly so much fun.

It takes a long time sometimes," she said, "It can take a terrible long time before things sort themselves out.

There was so much to talk about that nothing was said. It was warm sitting there on the steps. Everything seemed to be so right.

Are you too frightened to go any farther?" asked the silk-monkey, who found all this very easy, having four legs herself. "I'm never afraid," answered Sniff. "But I think the view is better from here.

The garnets,' Sniff moaned. 'I didn't get a single one.' Snufkin sat down beside him and said kindly: 'I know. 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.

It's funny about me,' Sophia said. 'I always feel like such a nice girl whenever there's a storm.' "'You do?' Grandmother said. 'Well, maybe ...' Nice, she thought. No. I'm certainly not nice. The best you could say of me is that I'm interested. [pp. 150-151]

What are you thinking of discovering?" Moomintroll cleared his throat and felt very proud. "Oh, everything," he said. "Stars, for example!" Snufkin was deeply impressed. "Stars!" he exclaimed. "Then I must come with you. Stars are my favorite things. I always lie and look at them before I go to sleep, and wonder who is on them and how one could get there. The sky looks so friendly with all those little eyes twinkling in it.

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. p.33

I can dive", Sophia said. "Do you know what it feels like when you dive?" Of course I do," her grandmother said. "You let go of everything and get ready and just dive. You can feel the seaweed against your legs. It's brown, and the water's clear, lighter towards the top, with lots of bubbles. And you glide. You hold your breath and glide and turn and come up, let yourself rise and breathe out. And then you float. Just float." And all the time with your eyes open," Sophia said. Naturally. People don't dive with their eyes shut." Do you believe I can dive without me showing you?" the child asked. Yes, of course", Grandmother said.

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.

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.

Only farmers and summer guests walk on the moss. What they don't know - and it cannot be repeated too often - is that moss is terribly frail. Step on it once and it rises the next time it rains. The second time, it doesn't rise back up. And the third time you step on moss, it dies.

...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.

Anyway, solitary people interest me. There are so many different ways of being solitary.' 'I know just what you mean,' said X. 'I know exactly what you're going to say. Different kinds of solitude. Enforced solitude and voluntary solitude.' 'Quite,' said Viktoria. 'There's no need to go into it further. But when people understand one another without speaking, it can often leave them with very little to talk about, don't you think?

Ajatella, jos ei koskaan voisi tulla iloiseksi tai pettyä, mietti isä veneen kiitäessä läpi myrskyn. Ei koskaan voisi pitää kenestäkään, eikä suuttua eikä antaa anteeksi. Ei koskaan voisi nukkua eikä palella, ei koskaan erehtyä, ei tuntea vatsakipua eikä toipua siitä, ei viettää syntymäpäivää, ei juoda olutta eikä tuntea pahaa omaatuntoa...

You were talking about the wind," the Fillyjonk said suddenly. "A wind that carries off your washing. But I'm speaking about cyclones. Typhoons, Gaffsie dear. Tornadoes, whirlwinds, sandstorms... Flood waves that carry houses away... But most of all I'm talking about myself and my fears, even if I know that's not done. I know everything will turn out badly. I think about that all the time. Even while I'm washing my carpet. Do you understand that? Do you feel the same way?

I cannot stress enough the perils of your friends marrying or becoming court inventors. One day you are all a society of outlaws, adventurous comrades and companions who will be pushing off somewhere or other when things become tiresome; you have all the world to choose from, just by looking at the map… And then, suddenly, they’re not interested any more. They want to keep warm. They’re afraid of rain. They start collecting big things that can’t fit in a rucksack. They talk only of small things. They don’t like to make sudden decisions and do something contrariwise. Formerly they hoisted sail; now they carpenter little shelves for porcelain mugs.

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.

Small animals are a great problem. I wish God had never created small animals, or else that He had made them so they could talk, or else that He'd given them better faces. Space. Take moths. They fly at the lamp and burn themsleves, and then they fly right back again. It can't be instinct, because it isn't the way it works. They just don't understand, so they go right on doing it. Then they lie on their backs and all their legs quiver, and then they're dead. Did you get all that? Does it sound good?" "Very good," Grandmother said. Sophia stood up and shouted, "Say this: say I hate everything that dies slow! Say I hate everything that won't let you help! Did you write that?

Sophia and Grandmother sat down by the shore to discuss the matter further. It was a pretty day, and the sea was running a long, windless swell. It was on days just like this--dog days--that boats went sailing off all by themselves. Large, alien objects made their way in from sea, certain things sank and others rose, milk soured, and dragonflies danced in desperation. Lizards were not afraid. When the moon came up, red spiders mated on uninhabited skerries, where the rock became an unbroken carpet of tiny, ecstatic spiders.

…”But on an occasion like this we must wait for sunset. Setting out in the right way is just as important as the opening lines in a book: they determine everything.” He sat in the sand next to Moominmamma. “Look at the boat,” he said. “Look at The Adventure. A boat by night is a wonderful sight. This is the way to start a new life, with a hurricane lamp shining at the top of the mast, and the coastline disappearing behind one as the whole world lies sleeping. Making a journey by night is more wonderful than anything in the world.” “Yes, you’re right,” replied Moominmamma. “One makes a trip by day, but by night one sets out on a journey.

Moomintroll's mother and father always welcomed all their friends in the same quiet way, just adding another bed and putting another leaf in the dining-room table. And so Moominhouse was rather full -- a place where everyone did what they liked and seldom worried about tomorrow. Very often unexpected and disturbing things used to happen, but nobody ever had time to be bored, and that is always a good thing.

The hemulen woke up slowly and recognised himself and wished he had been someone he didn't know. He felt even tireder than when he went to bed, and here it was -- another day which would go on until evening and then there would be another one and another one which would be the same as all days are when they are lived by a hemulen. He crept under the bedcover and buried his nose in the pillow, then he shifted his stomach to the edge of the bed where the sheets were cool. He took possession of the whole bed with outstretched arms and legs he was waiting for a nice dream that wouldn't come. He curled up and made himself small but it didn't help a bit. He tried being the hemulen that everybody like, he tried being the hemulen that no one liked. But however hard he tried he remained a hemulen doing his best without anything really coming off. In the end he got up and pulled on his trousers. The Hemulen didn't like getting dressed and undressed, it gave him a feeling that the days passed without anything of importance happening. Even so, he spent the whole day arranging, organising and directing things from morning till night! All around him there were people living slipshod and aimless lives, wherever he looked there was something to be put to rights and he worked his fingers to the bone trying to get them to see how they ought to live. It's as though they don't want to live well, the Hemulen thought sadly as he brushed his teeth. He looked at the photograph of himself with his boat which was been taken when the boat was launched. It was a beautiful picture but it made him feel even sadder. I ought to learn how to sail, the Hemulen thought. But I've never got enough time... Moominvalley in November Chapter 5, THE HEMULEN