Sublime

Those of the English who were then children owe to Hans Andersen more than to any of their own writers, that essential educational emotion which feels that domesticity is not dull but rather fantastic; that sense of the fairyland of furniture, and the travel and adventure of the farmyard.

brevity which is the soul of wit.

But I say, not in sleep but in the overwakefulness of noontide, that the wind speaks not more sweetly to the giant oaks than to the least of all the blades of grass; And he alone is great who turns the voice of the wind into a song made sweeter by his own loving.

Sympathy with the fluttering alder and poplar leaves almost takes away my breath; yet, like the lake, my serenity is rippled but not ruffled.

Maybe he has friends in high places. Wyn’s been up there long enough to have endeared herself to the right people. She’s probably been baking treats for Saint Peter, who has provenance over this sort of thing. Walking down to the gates of heaven once a week with a wicker basket full of warm honey cakes. Talking idly about her heathen husband and

The men of the Dark Ages were all optimists, as all children and all animals are.