We Kill Everybody, My Dear. Some With

You Must Write For Children The Same Way You Write For Adults, Only Better.

It Is Quiet Here And Restful And The Air Is Delicious. There Are Gardens Everywhere And Police Spies Lie In The Bushes. There Are Nightingales In Every Garden, But Police Spies Only In Mine, I Think. They Sit Under My Windows In The Darkness Of The Night And Try To Get A Glimpse Of How I Spread Sedition In Russia.

We Kill Everybody, My Dear. Some With Bullets, Some With Words, And Everybody With Our Deeds. We Drive People Into Their Graves, And Neither See It Nor Feel It.

To An Old Man Any Place That's Warm Is Homeland.

With His Own Money A Person Can Live As He Likes-a Ruble That's Your Own Is Dearer Than A Brother.