Thursday, June 5:
Thundery atmosphere and rain, but R. does some work, while I buy some things for Fidi’s birthday. The Court gardener remarks to me that he has still received no instructions from the Office of the Royal Household concerning our gate, although it is a long time since the telegram arrived granting our wish.
Sascha Ritter to lunch. Later another talk with the headmaster. It makes everything look very bad for Daniella: lies and improprieties. I try to make an impression on her by showing her my contempt. R. advises boarding school for her; I cannot make up my mind and put my hope in God.
In the evening R. reads me the essay on the origin of language, and I have once more to bless all great spirits. This essay and the discussions with R. that follow it literally free me from the burden of my gloomy thoughts. How can people without intellectual occupations ever bear their worries?
As we part, R. says to me: “Are you now fetching your blanket? But you only do that when Nietzsche is here.” Tender memories of those times.