“Peter Wessel and Peter Van Daan have grown into one Peter, who is beloved and good, and for whom I long desperately.”

“Creo que Peter quisiera tener la misma facilidad de expresión que yo; no sabe que su torpeza me enternece.”

“I have the feeling now that Peter and I share a secret. If he looks at me with those eyes that laugh and wink, then it’s just as if a little light goes on inside me. I hope it will remain like this and that we may have many, many more glorious times together!”

“He clings to his masculinity, his solitude and his feigned indif- ference so he can maintain his role, so he’ll never, ever have to show his feelings. Poor Peter, how long can he keep it up? Won’t he explode from this superhuman effort?”

“Peter needs tenderness. For the first time in his life he’s discovered a girl; for the first time he’s seen that even the biggest pests also have an inner self and a heart, and are transformed as soon as they’re alone with you.”

“I finally realized that I must do my schoolwork to keep from being ignorant, to get on in life, to become a journalist, because that’s what I want! I know I can write ..., but it remains to be seen whether I really have talent ... And if I don’t have the talent to write books or newspaper articles, I can always write for myself. But I want to achieve more than that. I can’t imagine living like Mother, Mrs. van Daan and all the women who go about their work and are then forgotten. I need to have something besides a husband and children to devote myself to! ... I want to be useful or bring enjoyment to all people, even those I’ve never met. I want to go on living even after my death! And that’s why I’m so grateful to God for having given me this gift, which I can use to develop myself and to express all that’s inside me! When I write I can shake off all my cares. My sorrow disappears, my spirits are revived! But, and that’s a big question, will I ever be able to write something great, will I ever become a journalist or a writer?”

“I have in my mind’s eye an image of what a perfect mother and wife should be; and in her whom I must call “Mother” I find no trace of that image.”