I'm Sentimental--i Know. I'm Desperate And Silly--i

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.

You Must Work And Should Not Be Lazy If You Want To Be Happy.

I Want To Go On Living Even After My Death! And Therefore I Am Grateful To God For This Gift, This Possibility Of Developing Myself And Of Writing, Of Expressing All That Is In Me. I Can Shake Off Everything If I Write; My Sorrows Disappear; My Courage Is Reborn. But, And That Is The Great Question, Will I Ever Be Able To Write Anything Great, Will I Ever Become A Journalist Or A Writer?

Don’t Believe The War Is Simply The Work Of Politicians And Capitalists. Oh No, The Common Man Is Every Bit As Guilty; Otherwise, People And Nations Would Have Re- Belled Long Ago! There’s A Destructive Urge In People, The Urge To Rage, Murder And Kill. And Until All Of Humanity, Without Exception, Undergoes A Metamorphosis, Wars Will Continue To Be Waged, And Everything That Has Been Carefully Built Up, Cultivated And Grown Will Be Cut Down And Destroyed, Only To Start Allover Again!

This Is A Photograph Of Me As I Wish I Looked All The Time. Then I Might Have A Chance Of Getting In Hollywood.