To Be Of Use To

Every Time A Good Child Dies, An Angel Of God Comes Down To Earth. He Takes The Child In His Arms, Spreads Out His Great White Wings, And Flies With It All Over The Places The Child Loved On Earth. The Angel Plucks A Large Handful Of Flowers, And They Carry It With Them Up To God, Where The Flowers Bloom More Brightly Than They Ever Did On Earth.

There Was Once A Bundle Of Matches, And They Were Frightfully Proud Because Of Their High Origin. Their Family Tree, That Is To Say The Great Pine Tree Of Which They Were Each A Little Splinter, Had Been The Giant Of The Forest.

I Have Shed Pewter Tears! It Is Too Melancholy! Rather Let Me Go To The Wars And Lose Arms And Legs! It Would At Least Be A Change. I Cannot Bear It Longer! Now, I Know What It Is To Have A Visit From One's Old Thoughts, With What They May Bring With Them! I Have Had A Visit From Mine, And You May Be Sure It Is No Pleasant Thing In The End; I Was At Last About To Jump Down From The Drawers.

The Naive Was Only A Part Of My Fairy Tales; Humour Was The Real Salt In Them.

At First She Was Overjoyed That He Would Be With Her, But Then She Recalled That Human People Could Not Live Under The Water, And He Could Only Visit Her Father's Palace As A Dead Man.