Careful

Townsperson:
You should never hold a baby's face near an open pin.

Klara:
Look at this, Grigorss, my mountain hideaway. The two of us can be outcasts here together. We need never see anyone but each other. We can live on berries and grasses, and small animals we can kill with sharp sticks.

Johann:
Suppose that the sounds of angels singing hymns to our virginal love was in reality a choir from the deepest pit of hell.

Grigorss:
Oh, Klara, you're a wild one.

Klara:
So are the reindeer when summer is coming.

Grigorss:
God has left this mountain to the devil. We have all joined his unholy dance.