WHY DON'T INTELLECTUALS BELIEVE IN GOD?
S U N D A Y, 1 2 M A R C H
Glorious, glorious weather all morning. In fact it was so wonderful I lay out on the terrace and did my Virgil. I also helped moving all the branches of the hedge into the vegetable garden.
I read Part III of Bertrand Russell's autobiography. I think he sounds a terribly nice person and very intelligent (he's now 94!) but he did marry four times and I think you must be rather a crank to fall in and out of love like that. Very unsettling too. He doesn't believe in God - it seems a lot of intellectuals don't. I'm not absolutely sure yet, but I don't think I do. I suppose humanity's always needed a religion. That's what Daddy says anyway.
Had a tummy ache and couldn't stop quivering. I worked myself up into such a state about it (it might be cancer) that if it goes on I'll have to go to the doctor's.
London Grandma rang up Pa in the evening and talked for one and a half hours about John and the divorce. Felt utterly miserable about illness so Pa and me made a fire - it was lovely. And in the evening it SNOWED! Great big flakes too.
Can't stop singing that Herman and the Hermits record, I don't even like it very much.