Quotes About Anais Nin

Now Geroge had a weakness in common with many men; when he was in an expansive mood, he loved to recount his exploits.

Don't worry about the faithlessness of women—you've got a Spanish wife now—famous for their faithfulness! (See Encyclopedias, histories, guide books.)

Seems to me you have escaped the fatality of repetition in your destiny by escaping cruelty in women. As I escaped mine by finding you, in place of my former penchant for dead or half-dead men! Did I leave my face powder & engagement book chez toi?

The Mystic of Sex" (an essay on D. H. Lawrence published pseudonymously in The Canadian Forum, in October 1930), and its offspring, the "Unprofessional Study" of D. H. Lawrence, published in 1932, reflect her own urgent needs to express her sexuality, to reorder the framework of her marriage, as much, perhaps, as they were a passionate defense (the first by a woman) of a much maligned fellow artist.

No sabes lo que es la sensualidad. Hugo y yo sí. Está en nosotros, no en tus pervertidas prácticas; está en el sentimiento, la pasión, el amor.»

Você tem o hábito de regressar, iniciar uma caminhada e regressar. Isso é mau. É o primeiro dos crimes contra a vida. Acredito em audácia.

But in 1928 she had inexplicably, confusingly fallen in love. The man who triggered this upheaval was John Erskine, best-selling American author of such books as The Private Life of Helen of Troy and a renowned pianist.

Sunshine is only a restorative—not a stimulus to work. I would write more but I am ashamed to ask for more paper. Love. Henry

are the only woman who has had a sense of gaiety, a wise tolerance—no more, you seem to urge me to betray you.

In general there is too staccato, too jerky, too hectic and hysterical a use of the sentence. Too dramatic, all highlights, and little or no relief. Too much use of abstract terms, of abstract emotions. Often culminating in slightly ridiculous hyperboles

What a powerful duet! What a mixture of significant irrelevancies, illuminating incongruities! [. . .]

I remember your phrase: "Only whores appreciate me." I wanted to say: you can only have blood-consciousness with whores, there is too much mind between us, too much literature, too much illusion—but then you denied there had been only mind. . . .

Oh, God, today I pray [to] you on my knees for Dostoevsky's obscurity, blindness, the most sacred and precious of all things.

What you said the other day about the futility of running away was very profound; and very courageous. Listen, Henry, I believe you should talk with Jung. I

Too much mind, though, Henry! I do not like Goethe's complete transference into ideas. I do not like his second metamorphosis. That is not for you. You must, like me, turn it on and off.

If you look at language merely as craft you are committing lèse-majesté towards your own sacred tools. You've got to have the proper respect—you've got to feel awed in its presence (see, I say "awed," not "sacred").

The precondition, then, of the creative personality is not only acceptance, but its actual glorification of itself.

Explanations are for husbands, for people you don't care about any more.

as I have the tragic sense of life these days

I love man as creator, lover, husband, friend, but man the father I do not trust. I do not believe in man as father. I do not trust man as father.