As Long As You Can Look Fearlessly

Deep Down, The Young Are Lonelier Than The Old.

The Question Is Very Understandable, But No One Has Found A Satisfactory Answer To It So Far. Yes, Why Do They Make Still More Gigantic Planes, Still Heavier Bombs And, At The Same Time, Prefabricated Houses For Reconstruction? Why Should Millions Be Spent Daily On The War And Yet There's Not A Penny Available For Medical Services, Artists, Or For Poor People? Why Do Some People Have To Starve, While There Are Surpluses Rotting In Other Parts Of The World? Oh, Why Are People So Crazy?

I Feel Wicked Sleeping In A Warm Bed, While My Dearest Friends Have Been Knocked Down Or Have Fallen Into A Gutter Somewhere Out In The Cold Night. I Get Frightened When I Think Of Close Friends Who Have Now Been Delivered Into The Hands Of The Cruelest Brutes That Walk The Earth. And All Because They Are Jews!

Memories Mean More To Me Than Dresses.

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.