If I had a dog I would not feel so lonely, but I suppose that is asking for too much.

He has so often told me he is madly in love with me, but what does that mean when I haven't had a good word from him in three months?

I have now reached the happy age of 23. No, happy is not quite the right word. At this particular moment I am certainly not happy.

Perhaps he wanted to be alone with Dr. G., who was here, but he should have let me know. At Hoffmann's I felt I was sitting on hot coals, expecting him to arrive every moment.

I am racking my brains to find out why he left without saying goodby to me.

Today I bought two lottery tickets, because I had a feeling that it would be now or never - they were both blanks. So I am not going to be rich after all. Nothing at all to be done about it.

I want to be a pretty corpse.