Gösta Berling: Erzählungen Aus Dem Alten Wermland

“Have you ever seen a child sitting on its mother’s knee listening to fairy stories? As long as the child is told of cruel giants and of the terrible suffering of beautiful princesses, it holds its head up and its eyes open; but if the mother begins to speak of happiness and sunshine, the little one closes its eyes and falls asleep with its head against her breast. . . . I am a child like that, too. Others may like stories of flowers and sunshine; but I choose the dark nights and sad destinies.””

— Selma Lagerlöf

“Fjärilar skola veta att dö medan solen skiner.””

— Selma Lagerlöf

“... I see the green earth covered with the works of man or with the ruins of men’s work. The pyramids weigh down the earth, the tower of Babel has pierced the sky, the lovely temples and the gray castles have fallen into ruins. But of all those things which hands have built, what hasn’t fallen nor ever will fall? Dear friends, throw away the trowel and mortarboard! Throw your masons’ aprons over your heads and lie down to build dreams! What are temples of stone and clay to the soul? Learn to build eternal mansions of dreams and visions!””

— Selma Lagerlöf

“Hon hade lärt sig älska kärleken med all dess plåga, dess tårar, dess längtan .- Bättre sorgsen med den än glad utan den, sade hon.””

— Selma Lagerlöf

“We are the poem's ancient band of twelve that proceeds through the ages. There were twelve of us, when we ruled the world on the cloud-covered top of Olympus, and twelve when we lived as birds in Ygdrasil's green crown. Wherever poetry went forth, there we followed. Did we not sit, twelve men strong, at King Arthur's round table, and did twelve paladins not go in Charles the Twelfth's great army? On of us has been Thor, another Jupiter, as any man should be able to see in us yet today. The divine splendor can be sensed under the rags, the lion's mane under the donkey hide. Time has treated us badly, but when we are there, the smithy becomes Mount Olympus and the cavalier's wing a Valhalla.””

— Selma Lagerlöf

“Old butterflies should have the sense to die while the summer sun is shining,””

— Selma Lagerlöf

“Må andra lyssna till tal om blommor och solsken, men för mig väljer jag de mörka nätterna, fulla av syner och äventyr, för mig de hårda ödena, för mig förvildade hjärtans sorguppfyllda lidelser.””

— Selma Lagerlöf

“Hon kunde aldrig hänge sig helt åt något. Om hon älskade, ja, vad hon än gjorde, stod liksom ena hälften av hennes jag och såg på med ett kallt hånlöje.””

— Selma Lagerlöf

“She does not see that he is old. She only sees his eyes, his eyes.””

— Selma Lagerlöf