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Well, yes: people write poems when they are in love, but a wise man will not print them.

Hans Christian Andersen

Happy domestic life is like a beautiful summer’s evening; the heart is filled with peace; and everything around derives a peculiar glory.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Beautiful Glory Happiness Summer
The sun shines upon good and bad alike.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Bad Good Shining Sun
At first she was overjoyed that he would be with her, but then she recalled that human people could not live under the water, and he could only visit her father’s palace as a dead man.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Dead Father Human Men People
It is out of reality that the most peculiar tale of all is born … Some call me the Elder Granny, others – the Dryad, but my real name is Memory. It is I who sits on a tree that keeps on growing, and growing, it is I who reminisces and tells stories.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Memories Names Real
I know what you want. It is very stupid of you, but you shall have your way, and it will bring you to sorrow, my pretty princess. – The sea witch.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Princess Sea Stupid
Just living is not enough… one must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Flower Nature Philosophical
Then she saw a star fall, leaving behind it a bright streak of fire. “Someone is dying,” thought the little girl, for her old grandmother, the only one who had ever loved her, and who was now dead, had told her that when a star falls, a soul was going up to God.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Fall Girl Grandmother Someone Stars
Every town, like every man, has its own countenance; they have a common likeness and yet are different; one keeps in his mind all their peculiar touches.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Different Men Mind Precular
Almighty God, thee only have I; thou steerest my fate, I must give myself up to thee! Give me a livelihood! Give me a bride! My blood wants love, as my heart does!
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Blood Fate Heart Street
She laughed and danced with the thought of death in her heart.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Heart Laugh Thoughts Of Death
Well, yes: people write poems when they are in love, but a wise man will not print them.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Men Wise Writing
We haven’t yet got eyes that can gaze into all the splendour that God has created, but we shall get them one day; and that will be the finest fairy tale of all, for we shall be in it ourselves.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Day Eye Fairy One Spiritual Talks
I have shed pewter tears! It is too melancholy! Rather let me go to the wars and lose arms and legs! It would at least be a change.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Change Legs Tears War
Farewell, farewell,” said the swallow, with a heavy heart, as he left the warm countries, to fly back into Denmark. There he had a nest over the window of a house in which dwelt the writer of fairy tales. The swallow sang “Tweet, tweet,” and from his song came the whole story.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Country Farewell Over Song
Being born in a duck yard does not matter, if only you are hatched from a swan’s egg.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Duckling Eggs Swans Ugly
He looked at the little maiden, and she looked at him; and he felt that he was melting away, but he still managed to keep himself erect, shouldering his gun bravely.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Gun Heart Morning