I believe that men are generally still a little afraid of the dark though the witches are all hung, and Christianity and candles have been introduced.

When I cannot bear outer pressures anymore, I begin to put order in my belongings...As if unable to organize and control my life, I seek to exert this on the world of objects.

He understands my pity for his ridiculous, humiliating physical necessity.

Things aren't the way they are, they're the way you are

Guilt is the one burden human beings can't bear alone.

I only regret that everybody wants to deprive me of the journal, which is the only steadfast friend I have, the only one which makes my life bearable, because my happiness with human beings is so precarious, my confiding moods rare, and the least sign of non-interest is enough to silence me. In the journal I am at ease.

Create a world, your world. Alone. Stand alone. And then love will come to you, then it comes to you.