Saturday, 11 January 1879

And even in painting! Breslau knows artists, visits the great painters, sees their ateliers; whilst I! At the studio everyone assumes I move in society and have every connection imaginable — this, combined with my fortune, separates me from the others and prevents me from asking them for anything, the way they ask each other about visiting a painter or a studio... Judge the depth of my wretchedness.
Amélie cordially hates me — the devil knows why — but she is polite and even agreeable. With the others I am on good terms. I would like to make it up with Breslau, who would be precious to me, but I have no desire to — she is a liar and sometimes false, all while enjoying a reputation for frankness and bluntness; that is what displeases me most. She is a crippled nature, and alongside good qualities one finds in her malice, baseness, and even cowardice.