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 ANDERSENFarewell, 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.
More Hans Christian Andersen Quotes
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I cannot bear it longer! Now, I know what it is to have a visit from one’s old thoughts, with what they may bring with them! I have had a visit from mine, and you may be sure it is no pleasant thing in the end; I was at last about to jump down from the drawers.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN -
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.
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She thought, “He whom I love more than my father or mother, he of whom I am always thinking, and in whose hands I would so willingly trust my lifelong happiness.
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To move, to breathe, to fly, to float, To gain all while you give, To roam the roads of lands remote, To travel is to live.
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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.
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Enjoy life. There’s plenty of time to be dead.
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A human life is a story told by God.
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I would give gladly all the hundreds of years that I have to live, to be a human being only for one day, and to have the hope of knowing the happiness of that glorious world above the stars.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN -
Being born in a duck yard does not matter, if only you are hatched from a swan’s egg.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN -
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 -
The sun shines upon good and bad alike.
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Well, yes: people write poems when they are in love, but a wise man will not print them.
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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.
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She laughed and danced with the thought of death in her heart.
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Just living is not enough… one must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN






