It’s Strange,” Moominmamma Thought. “strange That People

But He Thought All The Strange Words Were Beautiful, And He Had Never Had A Book Of His Own Before.

I Love Borders. August Is The Border Between Summer And Autumn; It Is The Most Beautiful Month I Know. Twilight Is The Border Between Day And Night, And The Shore Is The Border Between Sea And Land. The Border Is Longing: When Both Have Fallen In Love But Still Haven't Said Anything. The Border Is To Be On The Way. It Is The Way That Is The Most Important Thing.

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.

You Must Go On A Long Journey Before You Can Really Find Out How Wonderful Home Is.

One Has To Discover Everything For Oneself. And Get Over It All Alone.