The place in her, though, where her tears should have come from, was rough and dry. No, she didn't find any tears in herself to cry for the storyteller.The storyteller didn't exist anymore.

There are fewer answers in the world than questions, and if you ask me now why that is so, I must tell you that there is no answer to that question.

She had taught herself how to knit, and for the mare's scarf - it was green - she had given herself the best grade possible. And ...''That's silly!' Micha giggled. 'Well, who is the cliff queen, you or me?' Abel asked. 'It isn't my fault if you're giving yourself grades!

Abel was brushing the snow off his parka while Micha was dancing around him, still balancing the plate of cookies, singing, 'We're staying, we're staying, we're staying overnight! We're drying! We're drying! We're drying on the line!

As long as you're better at it than skating...," Anna said and stood up too. She wanted to say more, but that wasn't possible because he was kissing her. Reasonable Anna wanted to draw back the danger of touch. But unreasonable Anna welcomed the kiss like happiness. Maybe, she thought, it's better to take these moments when you get them - there might not be too many in life.