“Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.”
And a prince he was. Before his carriage rode one company of men and another behind it; servants dressed in scarlet and gold bore him along, the coveted umbrella was held over his head, everything his heart could desire was his. But yet it was not enough. He looked around still for something to wish for, and when he saw that in spite of the water he poured on the grass the rays of the sun scorched it, and that in spite of the umbrella held over his head each day his face grew browner and browner, he cried in his anger: "The sun is mightier than I; oh, if I were only the sun!"
And the mountain spirit answered: "Your wish is heard; the sun you shall be."
And the mountain spirit answered: "Your wish is heard; the sun you shall be."
When the old man came home from the hills and found that the bird had flown, he asked what had become of it; so the old woman answered that she had cut its tongue and let it go, because it had stolen her starching-paste. Now the old man, hearing this cruel tale, was sorely grieved, and thought to himself: "Alas! Where can my bird be gone? Poor thing! Poor little tongue-cut sparrow! Where is your home now?" and he wandered far and wide, seeking for his pet, and crying: "Mr. Sparrow! Mr. Sparrow! Where are you living?"
“ If you are cold, tea will warm you; if you are too heated, it will cool you; if you are depressed, it will cheer you; if you are excited, it will calm you.”
“ If you are cold, tea will warm you; if you are too heated, it will cool you; if you are depressed, it will cheer you; if you are excited, it will calm you.”
“People populate the darkness; with ghosts, with gods, with electrons, with tales.”
The fisherman did not long enjoy this kindly exhibition of the Moon Lady's skill, for very soon her dainty feet ceased to tap upon the sand. She rose into the air, the white feathers of her robe gleaming against the pine trees or against the blue sky itself. Up, up she went, still playing and singing, past the summits of the mountains, higher and higher, until her song was hushed, until she reached the glorious Palace of the Moon.
japanese folklore
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