Memories Mean More To Me Than Dresses.

I Hid Myself Within Myself ... And Quietly Wrote Down All My Joys, Sorrows And Contempt In My Diary.

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.

I Firmly Believe That Nature Brings Solace In All Troubles.

I Live In A Crazy Time.

No One Ever Became Poor From Giving.