I’m sure he knew about it long before, and was reading it behind my back. Of course I’d written: “I won’t make the mistake of letting him suspect what I’m up to.” But I was lying. I wanted him to read it. It’s true I wanted to “talk to myself”, too, but that wasn’t really why I begun keeping a diary. Being so secretive – using rice paper, sealing the book, and all that – was simply my natural way of going about it. Although he ridiculed me for it, he was just as bad. We knew we were reading each other’s diaries, and still we set up all sorts of barriers, to make it as difficult and uncertain as possible. We preferred to be left in doubt. I didn’t mind the trouble, since I was catering to both our tastes.

 The Key, Junichiro Tanizaki

I always say, keep a diary and someday it’ll keep you. 

Mae West

 

* Getrude Stein

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