Top 86 Quotes & Sayings by Tove Jansson

Explore popular quotes and sayings by a Finnish novelist Tove Jansson.
Last updated on December 23, 2024.
Tove Jansson

Tove Marika Jansson was a Swedish-speaking Finnish author, novelist, painter, illustrator and comic strip author. Brought up by artistic parents, Jansson studied art from 1930 to 1938 in Stockholm, Helsinki and Paris. Her first solo art exhibition was in 1943. At the same time, she was writing short stories and articles for publication, as well as creating the graphics for book covers and other purposes. She continued to work as an artist and a writer for the rest of her life.

On the morning, Daddy and I get up at six o'clock because Christmas trees must be bought in the dark. We walk to the other end of town, as the big harbour is just the right setting for buying a Christmas tree. We spend hours choosing, looking at every branch suspiciously. It's always cold.
All men are chums who will never leave each other in the lurch. A chum doesn't forgive, he just forgets - women forgive everything but never forget. Being forgiven is very unpleasant.
Nothing is as peaceful as when Christmas is over, when one has been forgiven for everything and can be normal again. — © Tove Jansson
Nothing is as peaceful as when Christmas is over, when one has been forgiven for everything and can be normal again.
When one's dead, one's dead... This squirrel will become earth all in his time. And still later on, there'll grow new trees from him, with new squirrels skipping about in them. Do you think that's so very sad?
It was the winter of war, in 1939. It felt completely pointless to try to create pictures... I suddenly felt an urge to write down something that was to begin with 'Once upon a time.'
One makes a trip by day, but by night, one sets out on a journey.
A theatre is the most important sort of house in the world because that's where people are shown what they could be if they wanted and what they'd like to be if they dared to and what they really are.
People idealise their animals, and at the same time they patronisingly overlook a dog's natural life - biting fleas, burying bones, rolling in garbage, barking up an empty tree all night... But what do they do themselves? Bury stuff that will rot in secret and then dig it up and bury it again and rant and rave under empty trees!
You can't ever be really free if you admire somebody too much.
Lie on the bridge and watch the water flowing past. Or run, or wade through the swamp in your red boots. Or roll yourself up and listen to the rain falling on the roof. It's very easy to enjoy yourself.
Christmas always rustled. It rustled every time, mysteriously, with silver and gold paper, tissue paper and a rich abundance of shiny paper, decorating and hiding everything and giving a feeling of reckless extravagance.
Sometimes it's better to look at things than own them... owning means anxiety and lots of bags to carry around.
Mummy weighed sweets and nuts so that everyone would get exactly the same amount. During the year, everything is measured roughly, but at Christmas, it has to be absolutely fair. That's why it's such a strenuous time.
Those damn Moomins. I don't want to hear about them any more. I could vomit on the Moomintrolls. — © Tove Jansson
Those damn Moomins. I don't want to hear about them any more. I could vomit on the Moomintrolls.
Dogs are mute and obedient, but they have watched us and know us and can smell how pitiful we are.
I wonder if the nursery and the chamber of horrors are as far apart as people think?
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.
She started thinking about all the euphemisms for death, all the anxious taboos that had always fascinated her. It was too bad you could never have an intelligent discussion on the subject. People were either too young or too old, or else they didn't have time.
A theatre is the most important sort of house in the world, because that's where people are shown what they could be if they wanted, and what they'd like to be if they dared to and what they really are
It's risky to talk about one's most secret dreams a bit too early.
My bag was as light as my happy-go-lucky heart.
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.
The thing about God, she thought, is that He usually does help, but not until you've made an effort on your own.
I want your first trip to be with me. I want to show you cities and landscapes and teach you how to look at things in new ways and how to get along in places you don't already know inside out. I want to put some life in you.
It is still summer, but the summer is no longer alive. It has come to a standstill; nothing withers, and fall is not ready to begin. There are no stars yet, just darkness.
One makes a trip by day, but by night one sets out on a journey.
There are those who stay at home and those who go away, and it has always been so. Everyone can choose for himself, but he must choose while there is still time and never change his mind.
All men have parties and are pals who never let each other down. A pal can say terrible things which are forgotten the next day. A pal never forgives, he just forgets, and a woman forgives but never forgets. That's how it is. That's why women aren't allowed to have parties. Being forgiven is very unpleasant.
?''Just think, never to be glad or disappointed. Never to like anyone and get cross at him and forgive him. Never to sleep or feel cold, never to make a mistake and have a stomach-ache and be cured from it, never to have a birthday party, drink beer, and have a bad conscience... How terrible.
It was a particularly good evening to begin a book.
...now and then a giggling trail of mermaids appeared in our wake. We fed them oatmeal.
It’s only the sea,’ said Moomintroll. ‘Every wave that dies on the beach sings a little song to a shell. But you mustn’t go inside because it’s a labyrinth and you may never come out again.
Before we left, Grandmother talked a lot about the arctic night we would fly through. 'Isn't it a mystical word, "arctic"? Pure and quite hard. And meridians. Isn't that pretty? We're going to fly along them, faster than the light can follow us... Time won't be able to catch us.
One has to discover everything for oneself. And get over it all alone.
All things are so very uncertain, and that's exactly what makes me feel reassured.
You must go on a long journey before you can really find out how wonderful home is.
Storms probably exist only because after them we can have a sunrise.
One must use the night. — © Tove Jansson
One must use the night.
But that's how it is when you start wanting to have things. Now, I just look at them, and when I go away I carry them in my head. Then my hands are always free, because I don't have to carry a suitcase.
Anyway, solitary people interest me. There are so many different ways of being solitary.' 'I know just what you mean,' said X. 'I know exactly what you're going to say. Different kinds of solitude. Enforced solitude and voluntary solitude.' 'Quite,' said Viktoria. 'There's no need to go into it further. But when people understand one another without speaking, it can often leave them with very little to talk about, don't you think?
Quite, quite,' she thought with a little sigh. 'It's always like this in their adventures. To save and be saved. I wish somebody would write a story sometime about the people who warm up the heroes afterward.
It's funny about love', Sophia said. 'The more you love someone, the less he likes you back.' 'That's very true,' Grandmother observed. 'And so what do you do?' 'You go on loving,' said Sophia threateningly. 'You love harder and harder.
Malander had an idea and was trying to work it out, but it would take him time. Sometimes people never saw things clearly until it was too late and they no longer had the strength to start again. Or else they forgot their idea along the way and didn't even realise that they forgotten.
I don't want to hear about them any more. I could vomit on the Moomintrolls.
He didn't remember, he didn't worry, he just was.
I love borders. August is the border between summer and autumn; it is the most beautiful month I know.
Everyone must imagine his own snakes because no one else's snakes can ever be as awful.
Look at The Adventure. A boat by night is a wonderful sight. This is the way to start a new life, with a hurricane lamp shining at the top of the mast, and the coastline disappearing behind one as the whole world lies sleeping. Making a journey by night is more wonderful than anything in the world.
Maybe my passion is nothing special, but at least it's mine. — © Tove Jansson
Maybe my passion is nothing special, but at least it's mine.
A person can find anything if he takes the time, that is, if he can afford to look. And while he's looking, he's free, and he finds things he never expected.
There's no need to imagine that you're a wondrous beauty, because that's what you are.
For a while she considered being ill, but she changed her mind.
Smell is important. It reminds a person of all the things he's been through; it is a sheath of memories and security.
You can't always be friendly. It's impossible, there isn't the time.
Most of the people are homesick anyway, and a little lonely, and they hide themselves in their hair and are turned into flowers.
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.
I mean, anyone can let Danger out but the really clever thing is finding somewhere for it to go afterwards.
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.
Someone who eats pancakes and jam can't be so awfully dangerous. You can talk to him.
One summer morning at sunrise a long time ago I met a little girl with a book under her arm. I asked her why she was out so early and she answered that there were too many books and far too little time. And there she was absolutely right.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!