Tuesday, December 14, 1982
A wet and dismal day: sixty six years ago, Helen Vaughan was about to vanish into history. We're going to Bethany on Sunday. I just hope it isn’t overrun with tourists.
I went into Easterby with Dad and took out The American Colonies from the library which I have to read for next term. I have to decide whether or not to change from American History to Literature. I keep swinging from one decision to the other. Should I stay or go?
“[H]uman beings, . . . can deceive, both intentionally and unconsciously. They plagiarise, copy an admired pattern in violation of their natural promptings, experiment with unnatural modes of expression, seek less to express themselves than to satisfy popular appetites, and so on.”
To be able to follow these “natural promptings”! To even know what they really are!! If I was the antithesis of all this, I would then be true to myself.