Saturday, 29 March 1873

At the promenade (blue dress, smart) — a good many people. Matinee at the Cercle Masséna. I saw Gioia — she was not pretty today, and he loves her! I understand that one may love a respectable woman even if she is not pretty, but a woman like that can only please because of her looks. Sometimes she is beautiful, but never extremely so.
[Written across the page: Women please with any face at all — what a fool I am!]
I was reflecting today that I must not waste a minute; I must employ every instant and study, for sometimes (I am ashamed to admit it) I hurry to learn the lessons quickly, quickly — sometimes without understanding them — so as to be done sooner, and I am pleased when they give me lessons to review because the following day I will have less to do. I must not do this, for I want to finish quickly everything I am learning at present, so as to begin serious studies like men, and occupy myself more with music, begin the harp and singing, read a great deal — these are my great desires. They are wise, are they not? Everyone will say yes.
[Written across the page: Yes!]
I strain my voice and I ruin it, and that is why I swore to God not to sing anymore until I take lessons, and I prayed Him to strengthen, enlarge, purify, and preserve my voice. To keep myself from singing, I impose a terrible condition: that if I sing, I shall lose my voice. It is dreadful, but I shall do everything to keep this promise — and it is understandable. Hamilton, dear, have pity on me — that woman is not worthy of you. I love you — oh! love me, have pity on me. [In the margin: A vow I have broken a hundred times.]