My Bag Was As Light As My

...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.

One Can't Be Too Dangerous, If They Like To Eat Pancakes. Especially With Jam On It.

There Are Such A Lot Of Things That Have No Place In Summer And Autumn And Spring. Everything That’s A Little Shy And A Little Rum. Some Kinds Of Night Animals And People That Don’t Fit In With Others And That Nobody Really Believes In. They Keep Out Of The Way All The Year. And Then When Everything’s Quiet And White And The Nights Are Long And Most People Are Asleep—then They Appear.

Making A Journey By Night Is More Wonderful Than Anything In The World.

It Is Simply This: Do Not Tire, Never Lose Interest, Never Grow Indifferent—lose Your Invaluable Curiosity And You Let Yourself Die. It's As Simple As That.