Sometimes I'm so deeply buried under self-reproaches that I long for a word of comfort to help me dig myself out again.

I want something from Daddy that he is not able to give me. ... It is only that I long for Daddy's real love: not only as his child, but for me - Anne, myself.

The young are not afraid of telling the truth.

We're not the only people that have had to suffer, there have always been people that've had to.

But I won't bore you any longer on the subject of old men. It won't make things any better and all my plans of revenge (such as disconnecting the lamp, shutting the door, hiding his clothes) must be abandoned in order to keep the peace. Oh, I'm becoming so sensible!

I simply can't build my hopes on a foundation of confusion, misery and death... I think... peace and tranquillity will return again.

Bolkenstein, a Minister, was speaking on the Dutch programme from London, and he said that they ought to make a collection of diaries and letters after the war. Of course, they all made a rush at my diary immediately. Just imagine how interesting it would be if I were to publish a romance of the "Secret Annexe." The title alone would be enough to make people think it was a detective story.