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Writing in a diary is a really strange experience for someone like me. Not only because I've never written anything before,
but also because it seems to me that later on neither I nor anyone else will be interested in the musings of a thirteen-year-old
schoolgirl. (June 20, 1942)
Riches, prestige, everything can be lost. But the happiness in your own heart can only be dimmed; it will always be there,
as long as you live, to make you happy again. (February 23, 1944)
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