Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Monday, 28 August 1876 (16 August) — Latin Verses and Intellectual Pretense

— No, I am simply like that.
I changed the subject to the horse.
— How strange it is, said my companion, you know how to talk about everything — and look, yesterday at dinner when you quoted Latin verse, not one person present understood a word of it, and perhaps did not even know the author's name, yet they all cried out: Ah! Yes, exactly, you are perfectly right! — well, such things, such lies, revolt me!
On returning I found my father lying on the sofa, Gritz seated with his hat on, and Michel rummaging about with his microscope.
— Well then, I said gaily, why these discontented or melancholy airs? What has happened? Is it my absence that saddens you so? It would be reasonable to say so.
Gritz removed his hat and Michel continued to examine a flea. At last my father said, casting a severe glance at both of them:
— There is nothing, but I do not like people making foolish mischief — someone wanted to make foolish mischief and it displeases me.
— Very well then, everyone growing more and more mysterious! Capital.