Sunday, November 9:
To church with Lusch; wretched preaching. A dismal spirit holds sway over present-day theology. So chilled, both without and within, that I feel no urge to go out again.
In the evening Father, the march to Worms, quite wonderful; incomprehensible that any servants of Rome still remained: “Just because there are always good people and bad people,” says R. Luther’s saying that he hardly knew now whether he would again undertake the march to Worms in so joyous a spirit brings from R. the remark, “Yes, joy, it can disappear.”