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The naive was only a part of my fairy tales; humour was the real salt in them.

Hans Christian Andersen

I have gone through the most terrible affair that could possibly happen; only imagine, my shadow has gone mad; I suppose such a poor, shallow brain, could not bear much; he fancies that he has become a real man, and that I am his shadow.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Mad Men Possibly Real Shadow Support
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
There was once a merchant who was so rich that he might have paved the whole street, and a little alley besides, with silver money. But he didn’t do it–he knew better how to use his money than that.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Littles might Money Street Use
Each time I think that the song is ended … something higher and better begins for me.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Higher Song Thinking
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
She laughed and danced with the thought of death in her heart.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Heart Laugh Thoughts Of Death
Some are created for beauty, and some for use; and there are some which one can do without altogether.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Altogether Beauty Created Some
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
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.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Father Happen Mother Winning
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
Don’t ask me how I am! I understand nothing more!
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Ask Me More Understanding
Well, yes: people write poems when they are in love, but a wise man will not print them.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Men Wise Writing
Time is so fleeting that if we do not remember God in our youth, age may find us incapable of thinking of him.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Age Fleeting Thinking
Human beings, on the contrary, have a soul which lives forever, lives after the body has been turned to dust. It rises up through the clear, pure air beyond the glittering stars.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Air Clear Dust Glitter Stars
A human life is a story told by God.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Condolences Grief Human Life Sympathy
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