(1914–1943)
Dutch diariest
Etty Hillesum
Once a stray cat came in during the night. We put a hatbox for it on the WC, and it had kittens inside. I sometimes feel like a stray cat without a hatbox.
Letter to Maria Tuinzing, Westerbork, August 11, 1943, in Etty: The Letters and Diaries of Etty Hillesum, 1941–1943 (Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing, 2002), 636.
Members of some ancient tribe or other had the custom of placing either a black or a white pebble into a jar at the end of every day, depending on whether the day had been bad or good. A sensible custom. At the end of someone’s life his jar was turned upside down and it could then be seen if it had been a happy or unhappy life. Instead of that stone ritual, I could write in this exercise book at the end of every day: life is beautiful, or miserable, or difficult, or delightful, or whatever. I’ll do that for a whole month. Very curious to see how it will turn out.
Thursday, August 7, 1941 entry, in Etty: The Letters and Diaries of Etty Hillesum: 1941–1943 (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2002), 78.
A poem by Rilke is as real and as important as a young man falling out of an airplane. That’s something I must engrave on my heart.
An Interrupted Life: The Diaries of Etty Hillesum 1941–43 (New York: Washington Square Books, 1985), 41–42.
I no longer plumb the depths of despair. My sadness has become a springboard. In the past I used to think that I would always be sad, but now I know that those moments too are part of life’s ebb and flow and that all is well. This is a sign of confidence, of very great confidence, even in myself. I have gradually come to realize that I am going to manage my life properly.
Diary entry dated January 11, 1942, in Etty Hillesum: An Interrupted Life, the Diaries, 1941-1943 and Letters from Westerbork (New York: Picador, 1996), 83.