Monday, 23 May 1881

At last everything is packed and we are at the station. Then at the moment of departure my hesitation infects the others — I begin to weep, and Maman with me, and Dina, and my aunt; and when my father comes to ask what is to be done, I answer him with tears.
The bell rings — we run to the carriage. No tickets had been taken for me and they climb into an ordinary compartment (which I would never do) — I try to get in too but the door closes, I have no ticket, and they depart without even a goodbye. You see — we curse each other, we detest each other, but when it comes to separation one knows nothing anymore. On one side Maman, on the other my aunt, my father in the middle. He must be furious, for all in all he had been very kind — and then... but this futile journey, this futile fatigue, this waste of time — and I know nothing anymore. I wept at leaving; I weep at staying... Breslau scarcely affects me now but all the same... I know nothing anymore.
But I truly believe that here I would look after my health better and would not lose time.