I Can't Imagine How Anyone Can Say:

I Long To Ride A Bike, Dance, Whistle, Look At The World, Feel Young And Know That I'm Free, And Yet I Can't Let It Show. Just Imagine What Would Happen If All Eight Of Us Were To Feel Sorry For Ourselves Or Walk Around With The Discontent Clearly Visible On Our Faces. Where Would That Get Us?

I Live In A Crazy Time.

Those Who Have Courage And Faith Shall Never Perish In Misery

Yes, There Is No Doubt That Paper Is Patient And As I Don't Intend To Show This Cardboard-covered Notebook, Bearing The Proud Name Of "diary," To Anyone, Unless I Find A Real Friend, Boy Or Girl, Probably Nobody Cares. And Now I Come To The Root Of The Matter, The Reason For My Starting A Diary: It Is That I Have No Such Real Friend.

In Spite Of Everything I Still Believe That People Are Really Good At Heart. I Simply Can’t Build Up My Hopes On A Foundation Consisting Of Confusion, Misery, And Death. I See The World Gradually Being Turned Into A Wilderness, I Hear The Ever Approaching Thunder, Which Will Destroy Us Too, I Can Feel The Sufferings Of Millions And Yet, If I Look Up Into The Heavens, I Think That It Will All Come Right, That This Cruelty Too Will End, And That Peace And Tranquility Will Return Again.