A Quiet Conscience Makes One Strong!

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.

Our Many Jewish Friends And Acquaintances Are Being Taken Away In Droves. The Gestapo Is Treating Them Very Roughly And Transporting Them In Cattle Cars To Westerbork, The Big Camp In Drenthe To Which They're Sending All The Jews....if It's That Bad In Holland, What Must It Be Like In Those Faraway And Uncivilized Places Where The Germans Are Sending Them? We Assume That Most Of Them Are Being Murdered. The English Radio Says They're Being Gassed.

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.

What A Wonderful Thought It Is That Some Of The Best Days Of Our Lives Haven't Even Happened Yet.

No One Ever Was The Poorer For Giving