Later we went to visit the Lenin Museum. Room after room of the scraps of a man´s life. I suppose there is no more documented life in history. Lenin must have thrown nothing away. Rooms and cases are full of bits of his writings, bills, diaries, manifestoes, pamphlets; his pens and pencils, his scarves, his clothing, everything is there.

***
Neither of us had heard from home for a long time. Letters did not come through, and we decided we would try to telephone New York. This was very difficult, and we finally gave it up. One can telephone New York only if money is deposited to the Russian account in New York, in dollars. this would require that we telegraph some one in New York, say exactly the time we wanted to telephone, and exactly how long we wanted to talk. The cost of this would be computed and the dollars deposited in New York, at which time our telephone call could be put in from Moscow. But since this would take about a week or ten days to accomplish, we decided the simplest thing was just to continue to write letters, and to hope eventuelly to receive some.

***
.... Stalin. His portrait hangs not only in every museum, but in every room of every museum. ... The stores sell millions and millions of his face, and every house has at least one picture of him. ... He is everywhere, he sees everything.

***
More and more we were realizing how much the Russian people live on hope, hope that tomorrow will be better than today.