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“I lie in bed at night, after ending my prayers with the words "Ich danke dir für all das Gute und Liebe und Schöne" and I'm filled with joy. I think of going into hiding, my health and my whole being as das Gute; Peter's love (which is still so new and fragile and which neither of us dares to say aloud), the future, happiness and love as das Liebe; the world, nature and the tremendous beauty of everything, all that splendor, as das Schöne.

At such moments I don't think about all the misery, but about the beauty that still remains. This is where Mother and I differ greatly. Her advice in the face of melancholy is: "Think about all the suffering in the world and be thankful you're not part of it." My advice is: "Go outside, to the country, enjoy the sun and all nature has to offer. Go outside and try to recapture the happiness within yourself; think of all the beauty in yourself and in everything around you and be happy."

I don't think Mother's advice can be right, because what are you supposed to do if you become part of the suffering? You'd be completely lost. On the contrary, beauty remains, even in misfortune. If you just look for it, you discover more and more happiness and regain your balance. A person who's happy will make others happy; a person who has courage and faith will never die in misery!”
― Anne Frank, Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl - Multiple Critical Perspectives

“This idea struck me: the army is the body : I am the brain. Thinking is my fighting. (15 May 1940)”
― Virginia Woolf, The Diary of Virginia Woolf, Volume Five: 1936-1941

“I felt him in everything. And what I felt was too deep.”
― Anaïs Nin, Mirages: The Unexpurgated Diary of Anais Nin

“I am eleven years old, I know, and I am not serious enough. Last night I said to myself: tomorrow I will be good. Good? I wasn't any better than I was the day before. Now here is a new month, and I haven't yet thought out how to be more sensible, how to master my impulses and my temper. I am ashamed to be so undisciplined.”
― Anaïs Nin, The Early Diary of Anais Nin, Vol. 1

“In the diary you find proof that in situations which today would seem unbearable, you lived, looked around and wrote down observations, that this right hand moved then as it does today, when we may be wiser because we are able to look back upon our former condition, and for that very reason have got to admit the courage of our earlier striving in which we persisted even in sheer ignorance.”
― Frank Kafka

“Do you really keep a diary? I'd give anything to look at it. May I?
CECILY: Oh no. [Puts her hand over it.] You see, it is simply a very young girl's record of her own thoughts and impressions, and consequently meant for publication. When it appears in volume form I hope you will order a copy.”
― Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest

“Every book has to wait for the right time to be read and understood.”
― Kamand Kojouri

“I wrote about myself so I wouldn't become paralyzed by rumination—so I could stop thinking about what had happened and be done with it.

More than that, I wrote so I could say I was truly paying attention. Experience in itself wasn't enough. The diary was my defense against waking up at the end of my life and realizing I'd missed it.”
― Sarah Manguso

“What a vast fertility of pleasure books hold for me! (...) I think I could happily live here & read forever.”
― Virginia Woolf, The Diary of Virginia Woolf, Volume Four: 1931-1935

“I long for the day I no longer long for him.”
― Franki Fiori , Down to the Bone

“The trouble was that I failed to record so much , I wrote, but how could I have believed that if I tried hard enough, I could remember everything?”
― Sarah Manguso, Ongoingness: The End of a Diary

“Yes, our old age is not going to be sunny orchard drowse. By shutting down the fire curtain, though, I find I can live in the moment; which is good; why yield a moment to regret or envy or worry? Why indeed? (24 December 1940)”
― Virginia Woolf, The Diary of Virginia Woolf, Volume Five: 1936-1941

“And the moment she held that diary in her hands, she summoned all her demons at once. The moment she opened it a hand from every page held her and pulled her inside. And in a moment even before she could realize what was happening to her she was drowning in the sea, fighting to breathe and fighting to swim back to the surface. But the hands kept pulling her down deep into the darkness until her voice died slowly.”
― Akshay Vasu

“A wet day. And I am glad of the rain, because I have talked too much.”
― Virginia Woolf, Selected Diaries

“Obituaries were the final diary page of life lived, whether pleasant or tragic, full or barren.”
― Jaime Jo Wright, The Reckoning at Gossamer Pond

“Joy's life in the doing (..) I mean it's the writing, not the being read that excites me.”
― Virginia Woolf, The Diary of Virginia Woolf, Volume Three: 1925-1930

“Janie ran to my side, where she tugged at the book eagerly as though she'd seen it before. "Flower book," she said, pointing to the cover.
"Where did you find Mummy's book?" Katherine asked, hovering near me.
Cautiously, I revealed the book as I sat on the sofa. "Would you like to look at it with me?" I said, avoiding the question.
Katherine nodded and the boys gathered round as I cracked the spine and thumbed through page after page of beautiful camellias, pressed and glued onto each page, with handwritten notes next to each. On the page that featured the 'Camellia reticulata,' a large, salmon-colored flower, she had written: 'Edward had this one brought in from China. It's fragile. I've given it the garden's best shade.' On the next page, near the 'Camellia sasanqua,' she wrote: 'A christmas gift from Edward and the children. This one will need extra love. It hardly survived the passage from Japan. I will spend the spring nursing it back to health.'
On each page, there were meticulous notes about the care and feeding of the camellias- when she planted them, how often they were watered, fertilized, and pruned. In the right-hand corner of some pages, I noticed an unusual series of numbers.
"What does that mean?" I asked the children.
Nicholas shrugged. "This one was Mummy's favorite," he said, flipping to the last page in the book. I marveled at the pink-tipped white blossoms as my heart began to beat faster. The Middlebury Pink.”
― Sarah Jio, The Last Camellia

“We’ve covered ourselves with everything we own, plus a snow blanket on top. It does provide warmth. The snow is everywhere - our pillows, our hair. You stick your head out, take a deal breath, slip under the covers again and breathe out. Feels warm. The snow on your hair melts, then turns to ice. A winter hat. Silence. Darkness... The only thing visible is the snow.”
― Dalia Grinkevičiūtė, Shadows on the Tundra

“We have found each other in that nostalgia of being abandoned.”
― maiaruna, Buku Harian Karenina

“A diary is useful during conscious, intentional, and painful spiritual evolutions. ... An intimate diary is interesting especially when it records the awakening of ideas; or the awakening of the senses at puberty; or else when you feel yourself to be dying.”
― André Gile

“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 13-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.”
― Anne Frank

“Whenever I get my period (and that’s only been three times), I have the feeling that in spite of all the pain, discomfort and mess, I’m carrying around a sweet secret. So even though it’s a nuisance, in a certain way I’m always looking forward to the time when I’ll feel that secret inside me once again.”
― Anne Frank, Anne Frank

“18 Years old and people still put me in the shoes of "Kiddo".”
― Deyth Banger, Diary 1

“That's not FOR REAL.”
― Deyth Banger, The Diary 2

“Kira is our god,
That's who does in this world justice,
It's not KARMA!”
― Deyth Banger, The Diary 2

“There was also a large picture in a very handsome frame, done in coloured crayons. It looked like a religious subject. I was very much struck with the lace collar, it looked so real, but I unfortunately made the remark that there was something about the expression of the face that was not quite pleasing. It looked pinched. Mr. Finsworth sorrowfully replied: "Yes, the face was done after death--my wife's sister.”
― George Grossmith, Weedon Grossmith

“That's the thing with a diary, though. In order to record your life, you sort of need to live it. Not at your desk, but beyond it. Out in the world where it's so beautiful and complex and painful that sometimes you just need to sit down and write about it.”
― David Sedaris, Theft by Finding: Diaries 1977-2002

“What he loved about Spanish soap operas is you could make what people say mean anything.”
― Chuck Palahniuk

“p2 I'd seen a photo of the actual red and white checked notebook that was Anne [Frank]'s first diary. I longed to own a similar notebook. Stationery was pretty dire back in the late fifties and early sixties. There was no such thing as Paperchase. I walked round and round the stationery counter in Woolworths and spent most of my pocket money on notebooks, but they weren't strong on variety. You could have shiny red sixpenny notebooks, lined inside, with strange maths details about rods and poles and perches on the back. (I never found out what they were!) Then you could have shiny blue sixpenny notebooks. That was your lot.
I was enchanted to read in Dodie Smith's novel I Capture The Castle that the heroine, Cassandra, was writing her diary in a similar sixpenny notebook. She eventually progressed to a shilling notebook. My Woolworths rarely stocked such expensive luxuries. Then, two thirds of the way through the book, Cassandra is given a two-guinea red leather manuscript book. I lusted after that fictional notebook for years.
I told my mother, Biddy. She rolled her eyes. It could have cost two hundred guineas - both were way out of our league... My dad, Harry, was a civil servant. One of the few perks of his job was that he had an unlimited illegal supply of notepads watermarked SO - Stationery Office. I'd drawn on these pads for years, I'd scribbled stories, I'd written letters. They were serviceable but unexciting: thin cream paper unreliably bound with glue at the top. You couldn't write a journal with these notepads; it would fall apart in days... My spelling wasn't too hot. It still isn't. Thank goodness for the spellcheck on my computer!”
― Jacqueline Wilson, My Secret Diary

“Amaya went to sit on a bench nearby. She had been to the park numerous times with Agastya, and just being there with another man made her feel like she was cheating. But Agastya was dead. Long gone. She took out his diary and started reading it.”
― Vidushi Gupta, The Unending Maze: Because Finding Your Way Out Has Never Been More Difficult