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.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENA 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.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENI 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 ANDERSENHuman 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 ANDERSENWe 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 ANDERSENHe 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 ANDERSENDon’t ask me how I am! I understand nothing more!
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENIt 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 ANDERSENShe laughed and danced with the thought of death in her heart.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENEvery 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 ANDERSENAlmighty 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 ANDERSENTime is so fleeting that if we do not remember God in our youth, age may find us incapable of thinking of him.
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.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENThe wiser a man becomes, the more he will read, and those who are wisest read most.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENAnd 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 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.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSENBeing born in a duck yard does not matter, if only you are hatched from a swan’s egg.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN