Friday, December 2:
Clear sky, R. at once better, he absolutely needs the blue of Heaven. Unfortunately it does not last long; when he comes home late in the evening, he is feeling pains in his back; he is vexed about it, he gets no pleasure from his work, the sight of the world fills him with melancholy, and also his eyes seem to be getting weaker. — This fills me with unutterable concern; once again I go to bed with Goethe’s verse in my mind: “Who never ate with tears his bread, who never through night’s heavy hours ...” I will try to retain the favor of the heavenly powers by diligently performing my task through joy and sorrow. I am sometimes alarmed to see how we hang in the air, how completely without possessions and indeed without prospects we are, yet I also keep my eyes fixed on the worst misery, I tell myself that the worst was after all causing someone else suffering, everything else can be borne; and now let it be as God wills; He will continue to help, as good King Wilhelm says in his telegram!