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“Then he tired. He turned his back to the blizzard and stopped fighting it. Not until then did Moomintroll notice that the wind felt warm. It carried him along into the whirling snow, it made him feel light and almost like flying. "I'm nothing but air and wind, I'm part of the blizzard," Moomintroll thought and let himself go. "It's almost like last summer. You first fight the waves, then you turn around and ride the surf, sailing along like a cork amont the little rainbows of the foam, and land laughing and just a little frightened in the sand." Moomintroll spread out his arms and flew. "Frighten me if you can," he thought happily. "I'm wise to you now. You're no worse than anything else when one gets to know you. Now you won't be able to pull my leg anymore." And the winder danced him all along the snowy shore, until he stumbled across the snowed-up landing stage and plowed his nose through a snowdrift. When he looked up, he saw a faint, warm light. It was the window of the bathing house. "Oh, I'm saved," Moomintroll said tot himself, a little crestfallen. "It's a pity that exciting things always stop happening when you're not afraid of them anymore and would like to have a little fun.” — Tove Jansson