Quote

Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.

Anais Nin

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Anais Nin
Age: 73 †
Born: 1903
Born: February 21
Died: 1977
Died: January 14
Author
Autobiographer
Diarist
Novelist
Screenwriter
Writer
Neuilly
Angela Anaïs Juana Antolina Rosa Edelmira Nin y Culmell
Anais Nin
Life
Marriage
Blindness
Betrayals
Broken
Betrayal
Deployment
Source
Novelists
Withering
Dies
Wounds
Essayists
Natural
Illness
Heartbroken
Death
Errors
Weariness
Never
Inspiring
Saddest
Love
Dying
Heartbreak
Replenish

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My first vision of earth was water veiled. I am of the race of men and women who see all things through this curtain of sea and my eyes are the color of water.
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With her eyes alone she could give this response, this absolutely erotic response, as if febrile waves were trembling there, pools of madness... something devouring that could lick a man all over like a flame, annihilate him, with a pleasure never known before.
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The dream was always running ahead of me. To catch up, to live for a moment in unison with it, that was the miracle.
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In the world of the dreamer there was solitude: all the exaltations and joys came in the moment of preparation for living. They took place in solitude.
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To the woman with the least intelligence, there must come, at some time or other, the realization that housework is animal work and that there are other occupations in the world a thousand times more refined, more enriching, for which she is also suited and to which she has a right.
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In my dreams I sleep with everybody.
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The unconscious can become destructive if it is disregarded and thwarted.
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Anxiety is love's greatest killer, because it is like the stranglehold of the drowning.
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I was thinking of my patients, and how the worst moment for them was when they discovered they were masters of their own fate. It was not a matter of bad or good luck. When they could no longer blame fate, they were in despair.
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Sexual intercourse... a joyous, joyous, joyous, joyous impaling of woman on man's sensual mast.
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Acapulco in the sunset seems like a balm it enters the blood like a drug after one inhalation of the scent of flowers, one glimpse of the bay iridescent like silk, the sunset like the inside of a shell, so much like the flesh of Venus.
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Reality doesn’t impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me. I escape, one way or another. No more walls.
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Our culture made a virtue of living only as extroverts. We discouraged the inner journey, the quest for a center. So we lost our center and have to find it again.
Anais Nin
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You are the poet, you walk inside my dreams.
Anais Nin
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You don't find love, it finds you. It's got a little bit to do with destiny, fate, and what's written in the stars.
Anais Nin
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I know no joy as great as a moment of rushing into a new love, no ecstasy like that of a new love.
Anais Nin
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She walked in the shadow of Rango with a great feeling of being taken out of herself, of having no knowledge of what was happening to her, merely a pervading sense of flow.
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I walked into my own book, seeking peace. It was night, and I made a careless movement inside the dream I turned too brusquely the corner and I bruised myself against my madness.
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Something is always born of excess: great art was born of great terror, great loneliness, great inhibitions, instabilities, and it always balances them.
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Secrets. Need to disguise. The novel was born of this.
Anais Nin