Everything Will Turn Out Right, The World

Just Like A Murderer Jumps Of Nowhere In An Ally, Love Jumped Out In Front Of Us And Struck Us Both At Once

To Speak The Truth Is Easy And Pleasant.

Once In 1919, When I Was Traveling At Night By Train, I Wrote A Short Story. In The Town Where The Train Stopped, I Took The Story To The Publisher Of The Newspaper Who Published The Story.

What's The Use Of Dying In A Ward Surrounded By A Lot Of Groaning And Croaking Incurables? Wouldn't It Be Much Better To Throw A Party With That Twenty-seven Thousand And Take Poison And Depart For The Other World To The Sound Of Violins, Surrounded By Lovely Drunken Girls And Happy Friends?

Not Causing Trouble, Not Touching Anything, Fixing The Primus.