Thousands of lights were burning on the green branches, and gaily-colored pictures, such as she had seen in the shop-windows, looked down upon her. The little maiden stretched out her hands towards them when--the match went out. The lights of the Christmas tree rose higher and higher, she saw them now as stars in heaven . . .

And the matches gave such a brilliant light that it was brighter than at noon-day: never formerly had the grandmother been so beautiful and so tall. She took the little maiden, on her arm, and both flew in brightness and in joy so high, so very high, and then above was neither cold, nor hunger, nor anxiety--they were with God.

Life itself is the most wonderful fairy tale.

Every man's life is a fairy tale written by God's fingers

Most of the people who will walk after me will be children, so make the beat keep time with short steps.

Many, many steeples would have to be stacked one on top of another to reach from the bottom to the surface of the sea.