Tove Jansson
Tove Jansson
Tove Marika Jansson; 9 August 1914 – 27 June 2001) was a Swedish-speaking Finnish novelist, painter, illustrator and comic strip author. For her contribution as a children's writer she received the Hans Christian Andersen Medal in 1966...
NationalityFinnish
ProfessionChildren's Author
Date of Birth9 August 1914
CityHelsinki, Finland
CountryFinland
calm calm-down bits
I'll have to calm down a bit. Or else I'll burst with happiness
book evening good-evening
It was a particularly good evening to begin a book.
grandmother ideas done
Why are you in such a rush?" Sophia asked, and her grandmother answered that it was a good idea to do things before you forgot that they had to be done.
clever mean danger
I mean, anyone can let Danger out but the really clever thing is finding somewhere for it to go afterwards.
beautiful tree wreaths
He was the owner of the moonlight on the ground, he fell in love with the most beautiful of the trees, he made wreaths of leaves and strung them around his neck.
bigs
Everything's much too big here,' thought Moominmamma. 'Or perhaps I'm too small.
interesting feelings asking
...by and by a change came: I started to muse about the shape of my nose. I put my trivial surroundings aside and mused more and more about myself, and I found this to be a bewitching occupation. I stopped asking and longed instead to speak of my thoughts and feelings. Alas, there was no one besides myself who found me interesting.
circles darkness world
The lamp sizzled as it burned. It made everything seem close and safe, a little family circle they all knew and trusted. Outside this circle lay everything that was strange and frightening, and the darkness seemed to reach higher and higher and further and further away, right to the end of the world.
worry remember
He didn't remember, he didn't worry, he just was.
beautiful book strange
But he thought all the strange words were beautiful, and he had never had a book of his own before.
writing important needs
I need to write down my observations. Even the tiniest ones; they're the most important.
grandmother long lost
A very long time ago, Grandmother had wanted to tell about all the things they did, but no one had bothered to ask. And now she had lost the urge.
running grandmother weather
Grandmother walked up over the bare granite and thought about birds in general. It seemed to her no other creature had the same dramatic capacity to underline and perfect events - the shifts in the seasons and the weather, the changes that run through people themselves.
lonely flower hair
Most of the people are homesick anyway, and a little lonely, and they hide themselves in their hair and are turned into flowers.