Monday, May 1st
To-day is so beautiful, many people must have been happy for a moment just in waking. It is so difficult not to be happy. It is such a wonderful thing to open one's blinds to a sunshiny May morning. And then there has to be the next moment.
May 3rd
In other years also the spring was sad. There was always that exquisite lovely poignant sadness of spring.
These days are too beautiful. It seems as if one could not bear them.
I think it is because so much beauty makes one want happiness.
One cannot understand, in such loveliness, why one is not happy.
Something is asked of us that we cannot answer.
I remember Roselyne's saying, long before there was war, one sunset, down by the sea in the south—