Diary Entry of August 14, 1877
The writer reflects on how quickly happiness can be broken by a small disturbance, turning a good day into one clouded by unease. Although her father gives a beautiful musical performance in the evening, the composer remains unsettled and unable to recover his composure.
Tuesday, August 14:
Oh, this mortal life! When one is happy, a breath can turn it, putting an end to joy, peace, and work, and no one in the least to blame! ...
In the evening my father plays us his Divertissement a la Hongroise enchantingly, but R. remains disturbed.