Quotes Anne Frank Diary Novels & Stories

"The handwriting... it's a match. We can confirm it belongs to the doctor." A wave of shock swept across the square. The police opened the journal in full view of the cameras. The first page was dated a year earlier—the same day Anne attended an academic conference. "I saw her at the conference today. Anne Shaw. The moment she smiled, I couldn't look away. "I found out where she lives. I followed her all day today. She went to the library, then a café, and finally home. I've recorded every detail of her routine.

She hasn't taken dinner that night and her mouth needed real washing that evening. After cleaning her teeth, Juana sat at her desk and opened her big diary-it was a present from her granny for her eleventh birthday. It was a very big fine book. She began to write: "Hi dear diary, tomorrow is my birthday..." She had so much to tell her diary but the words weren't coming. She thought deeply for a while, sat up and began to write again: " Hi dear diary, tomorrow is my birthday but tonight is my meeting with my demons. I am scared, mom says I should pray, Aunt Ann said the same thing but I don't believe in it anymore. I don't even know how to pray; I'm mad at God.

Inside, I can see a bunch of other ladies in the navy in that chamber all in white bonnets; the mamas of our town. "C'mon dear, come in, don't be afraid," summoned one of the mamas in the room, the oldest one, Madam Anne. "Come closer, take off your clothes, dear, don't be afraid, we are here to help you..." she was waving her hand, signaling me to come closer, as you would to a frightened animal, hiding under the bed. And 'Afraid' was the word that she used instead of 'shy.' I thought to myself maybe she uses that word because she knew after that night, there was nothing left to be shy of, but then I thought again: I must have been overthinking it, maybe I simply look frightened.

Every second counted, and Anita was counting on me. With a sharp intake of breath, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small pin, silently thanking myself for keeping it on hand. I worked quickly, gently probing the lock, each click sending a jolt of adrenaline through me. Finally, the lock gave way, and I opened the compartment to reveal…a small, leather-bound diary.

Slowly, she opened it. The first thing she saw was handwriting, familiar and bold. Her breath caught in her throat. Her chest tightened as her eyes fell on the neat scrawl of a name on the first page: NATHANIEL MULLER This was Nathaniel’s diary. For a moment, she hesitated. Then, with trembling fingers, she turned to the first entry. ********** July 21st, 2016

She said and grabbed Anna's hands, pulling her back into the fashion room. "But-" Sandra pressed the button, cutting her short as they both watched the door close. "We are going to pretend like we didn't see that." She said. "But we did see it." Anna replied. "Anna. I know you are curious. I was too. But how do you want t explain why Athena has books of witches that looks...feels real...to you." "Didn't it feel that way to you? See this." Anna grabbed the book on her table 'Diary of the witches' and passed it to Sandra. "This book ends with all witches must die." She said.

She marvelled at her erratic heart beats and wondered if they would ever get normal in his presence. As she searched her bag for the comb, she found the small handpocket sized diary that she bought in a thrift store a long time back. She opened it and skimmed through the enty pages of the book when a crazy creative idea popped up. Smiling to herself, she picked a pen from the nearby table as she decided to write about all the beautiful memories she had with Ronan the previous day. This way, she can relive them whenever she wanted without missing out on even the smallest details. Excerpts from Anya's Diary:

And somehow… that felt like the worst possible reaction. ___________________ Flashback. A few hours ago. Zaria had suddenly called, asking Anne to come over with everything she had brought to New York. After explaining everything, Anne turned to hug Rai as she asked some questions about monkey jumping.. “Wang… come here.” Her voice wasn’t loud. Still, I heard it immediately. I turned and saw her standing by the window, fingers lightly touching the edge of the curtain like she needed something strong to hold on to. Something felt off.

“You know what I’m reading, of course you do.” “I haven’t researched it as I stalked you on camera if that’s what you’re referring to.” Max smiled. “It’s a novel about a woman who rescued thousands of children by smuggling them out of the Warsaw Ghetto in World War II.” “Sounds heroic,” Max said. “I’ve just started, seems good so far.” Abby paused. Max seemed different, more reserved if it was possible. Reserved and distracted. “What’s wrong? Have you heard something?” His eyes shot to hers. “What makes you say that?”

If she could stop him from reading that journal, if he hadn't already, then the likelihood of making it out of here alive would be greater. Unfortunately, from the teary blaze his eyes took when he stared at the journal, she had an inkling that hope was too fickle to save her. “Shhh, it's time for my story,” Raphael murmurs as his gaze sweeps through the journal in his hands. From the other side of the room, Anne stirs and her eyes fling open. As soon as she spots Elsida, her face contorts, her voice cracking as she tries to form coherent words from her dry throat.