March 28.
HATRED, after all, is the easiest thing of all to bear.
If you have been forgotten by the one who must have made you, and if you have been left alone of human beings all your life—all your nineteen years—then, when at last you see some one looking toward you with beautiful eyes, and extending to you a beautiful hand, and showing you a beautiful heart wherein is just a little of beautiful sympathy for you—for you—oh, that is harder than anything to bear. Harder than the loneliness and the bitterness—and the tears are nearer and nearer.
But one would be hurt often, often for the sake of the beautiful things. Yes, one would gladly be hurt long and often.
I shall never forget how it was with me when I first saw the beautiful eyes
