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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

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 wiser a man becomes, the more he will read, and those who are wisest read most.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Men Wiser Wisest
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
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
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
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
Now, if we only had as many casks of butter as there are people here, then I would eat lots of butter!
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Butter Many People
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
Enjoy life. There’s plenty of time to be dead.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Enjoy Improvement Life Self
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
A human life is a story told by God.
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN

Condolences Grief Human Life Sympathy
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