But Nightshirts Aren't Dangerous," Pippi Assured Her.

There Is Very Little You Can Beat Into A Child, But No Limit To What You Can Hug Out Of It.

No Fridolf, Bother All This Learning. I Can't Study Anymore Because I Must Climb The Mast To See What Kind Of Weather We're Going To Have Tomorrow.

I Don't Want To Write For Adults. I Want To Write For Readers Who Can Perform Miracles. Only Children Perform Miracles When They Read.

And So I Write The Way I Myself Would Like The Book To Be – If I Were A Child. I Write For The Child Within Me.

At Least, Not In This Country,' She Added After A Moment's Thought. 'in China It's A Little Different. Once I Saw A Chinaman In Shanghai. His Ears Were So Big He Could Use Them For A Raincoat. When It Rained, He Just Crept In Under His Ears And Was Warm And Snug As Could Be. Not That The Ears Had Such A Rattling Good Time Of It, You Understand. If It Was Specially Bad Weather, He'd Invite Friends And Acquaintances To Pitch Camp Under His Ears Too. There They Sat, Singing Their Sorrowful Songs While It Poured Down Outside.