Anyhow, I've learned one thing now. You only really get to know people when you've had a jolly good row with them. Then and then only can you judge their true characters!

Then I fall asleep with a stupid feeling of wishing to be different from what I am or from what I want to be; perhaps to behave differently from the way I want to behave or do behave.

Our lives are fashioned by our choices. First we make our choices. Then our choices make us.

Don't be too assuming, it doesn't get you anywhere.

Who else but me is ever going to read these letters?

Why are millions spent on the war each day, while not a penny is available for ... artists or the poor? Why do people have to starve when mountians of food are rotting away in other parts of the world? Oh, why are people so crazy?

When I write I can shake off all my cares. My sorrow disappears, my spirits are revived.