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

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

“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.”

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

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

“…”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.”

“He read the classics, the French and the German among others, but primarily the Russian, which enchanted him with their heavy patience.”