Wednesday, June 26:
My first greeting in the morning a letter of I don’t know how many pages from Dr. Julius Lang; I do not read it, but I see from the opening address and a few sentences that it contains abuse and threats against me. Such things should not affect one, but they do, and I have to screw myself up to a sort of heroic mood, that is to say, to take everything bad on myself for the sake of the happiness vouchsafed me, in order not to be inwardly upset. R. wants to send the letter back with a few words in his own hand.
R. works. In the afternoon a nice letter comes from Prof. N., which R. replies to at once. We then go for a walk; I have to struggle hard against sadness. If most people fear death, I can truly say that it is life I fear.