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 ANDERSENTo 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.
More Hans Christian Andersen Quotes
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Some are created for beauty, and some for use; and there are some which one can do without altogether.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN -
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.
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A mermaid has not an immortal soul, nor can she obtain one unless she wins the love of a human being. On the power of another hangs her eternal destiny.
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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 -
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.
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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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Being born in a duck yard does not matter, if only you are hatched from a swan’s egg.
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And the Top spoke no more of his old love; for that dies away when the beloved objects has lain for five years in a roof gutter and got wet through; yes, one does not know her again when one meets her in the dust box.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN -
It was clear to me, as I glanced back over my earlier life, that a loving Providence watched over me, that all was directed for me by a higher power.
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The naive was only a part of my fairy tales; humour was the real salt in them.
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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 -
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.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN -
The wiser a man becomes, the more he will read, and those who are wisest read most.
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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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Brave soldier, never fear. Even though your death is near.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN