I Want To Go On Living After

One Must Apply One's Reason To Everything Here, Learning To Obey, To Shut Up, To Help, To Be Good, To Give In, And I Don't Know What Else. I'm Afraid I Shall Use Up All My Brains Too Quickly, And I Haven't Got So Very Many. Then I Shall Not Have Any Left For When The War Is Over.

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?

I Do My Best To Please Everybody, Far More Than They'd Ever Guess. I Try To Laugh It All Off, Because I Don't Want To Let Them See My Trouble.

Give And You Shall Receive, Much More That You Ever Thought Possible. Give And Give Again. People Who Give Will Never Be Poor!

I Haven't Written For A Few Days, Because I Wanted First Of All To Think About My Diary. It's An Odd Idea For Someone Like Me To Keep A Diary; Not Only Because I Have Never Done So Before, But Because It Seems To Me That Neither I-nor For That Matter Anyone Else-will Be Interested In The Unbosomings Of A Thirteen -year -old Schoolgirl. Still, What Does That Matter? I Want To Write, But More Than That, I Want To Bring Out All Kinds Of Things That Lie Buried Deep In My Heart.