Katherine Mansfield’s diary, 1921

Does one ever know? One never knows. She realised how foolish it would be to ask the question : " What are you thinking of? " And yet if she did not ask the…

" To be happy with you seems such an impossibility ! It requires a luckier star than mine ! It will never be. . . . The world is too brutal for me."

Geneve: Salle d'attente. The snow lay like silver light on the tops of the mountains. In the chill, greenish light, the wide motionless rivers looked as though they…

For the first time since the war I talked Ger- man to a German. " Wollen Sie fragen ob man warten kann ? " And so on. It was simply extraordinary. Why?

I finished Mr. and Mrs. Dove yesterday. I am. not altogether pleased with it. It's a little bit made up. It's not inevitable. I mean to imply that those two may not…

Montana. One thing I am determined upon. And that is to leave no sign. There was a time — it is not so long ago — when I should have written all that has happened…

And now, just as I felt a little better and less worried about my head and my heart, the gland has become inflamed and all the surrounding tissue, too. It looks as…

Went to the Palace, and had the gland punc- tured. It is very unlikely that they will save the skin. I am sure, from the feeling, that they won't, and that this…

Finished An Ideal Family yesterday. It seems to me better than The Doves, but still it's not good enough. I worked at it hard enough, God knows, and yet I didn't…

All this ! All that I write — all that I am — is on the border of the sea. It's a kind of playing. I want to put all my force behind it, but somehow, I cannot!

A sudden idea of the relationship between ' lovers.' We are neither male nor female. We are a com- pound of both. I choose the male who will develop and expand the…

" I have been writing a story about an old man." She looked vague. " But I don't think I like old men — do you? " said she. " They exude so." This horrified me. It…

I don't know how I may write this next story. It's so difficult. But I suppose I shall. The trouble is I am so infernally cold.

" If I could only sweep all my garden up the hill, to your doors ! " Her perfect little gesture as she said this.

September is different from all other months. It is more magical. I feel the strange chemical change in the earth which produces mushrooms is the cause, too, of…

I wonder why it should be so very difficult to be humble. I do not think I am a good writer; I realize my faults better than anyone else could realize them. I know…

Another radiant day. J. is typing my last story, The Garden Party, which I finished on my birthday . It took me nearly a month to 1 recover ' from At the Bay. I…

Stories for my new book. N.Z. Honesty: The Doctor, Arnold Cullen, and his wife Lydia, and Archie the friend. L. Second Violin: Alexander and his friend in the…

It is time I started a new journal. Come, my unseen, my unknown, let us talk together. Yes, for the last two weeks I have written scarcely anything. I have been…

Since then I have only written The Doll's House. A bad spell has been on me. I have begun two stories,1 but then I told them and they felt betrayed. It is…

These last days I have been awfully rebellious. Longing for something. I feel uprooted. I want things that J. can so easily do without, that aren't natural to him.…