From the Diary of Anne Frank, Pt. 1: There is a saying…

There is a saying that paper is more patient than man

– it came back to me on one of my melancholy days.

Yes, there is no doubt that paper is patient

and I don’t intend to show this notebook bearing the proud title of diary

to anyone ... unless I find a real friend.

And now I come to the root of the matter,

the reason for my starting a diary is

– that I have no such real friend.

Let me put it more clearly,

since no one will believe that a girl of thirteen

feels herself quite alone in the world – nor is it so.

... I have darling parents, a sister of sixteen

– I know about thirty people whom one might call friends.

I have strings of boyfriends anxious to catch a glimpse of me

and, who failing that, peep at me through mirrors in class.

I have relations, aunts and uncles who are darlings too

– a good home.

No – I don’t seem to lack anything.

But it is the same with all my friends

– just fun and games – nothing more.

Hence, this diary

– I want this diary itself

to be the friend for whom I’ve waited so long

and I shall call my friend, Kitty

... “Dear Kitty”