In you alone I have found the same swelling of enthusiasm, the same quick rising of the blood, the fullness… Before, I almost used to think there was something wrong. Everybody else seemed to have the brakes on… I never feel the brakes. I overflow. And when I feel your excitement about life flaring, next… Continue reading Anaïs Nin
We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers,… Continue reading Anaïs Nin
Your voice reverberated against my body like another kind of caress, another kind of penetration. — Anaïs Nin, A Literate Passion: Letters of Anaïs Nin & Henry Miller, 1932-1953. (Mariner Books; 1 edition (pril 22, 1989) Originally published 1965.
The possession of knowledge does not kill the sense of wonder and mystery. There is always more mystery. ― Anaïs Nin
There are two ways to reach me: by way of kisses or by way of the imagination. But there is a hierarchy: the kisses alone don’t work. — Anaïs Nin, Henry and June: From “A Journal of Love”–The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin. (Harvest Books; 1 edition October 29, 1990) Originally published 1986.
Hell is a different place for each man, or each man has his own particular hell. My descent into the inferno is a descent into the irrational level of existence, where the instincts and blind emotions are loose, where one lives by pure impulse, pure fantasy, and therefore pure madness. No, that is not the… Continue reading Anaïs Nin
I have the gift of desiring, of inventing more and more desires, of never knowing satiation and dullness. And I am cursed with the lack of genius for renunciation. — Anaïs Nin, Linotte: The Early Diary of Anaïs Nin (1914-1920) (Mariner Books; 1st Harvest/HBJ Ed edition March 10, 1980) Originally published 1978.