Quote

A leaf fluttered in through the window this morning, as if supported by the rays of the sun, a bird settled on the fire escape, joy in the task of coffee, joy accompanied me as I walked.

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
Fire
Task
Fluttered
Morning
Escape
Accompanied
Peace
Coffee
Leafs
Love
Tasks
Leaf
Bird
Settled
Window
Supported
Sun
Rays
Joy
Walked

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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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If you are terribly truthful, the ground will always move from under you, and you will have to shift with the constantly shifting truth.
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I only believe in fire. Life. Fire. Being myself on fire I set others on fire. Never death. Fire and life.
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The suppression of inner patterns in favor of patterns created by society is dangerous to us.
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If a person continues to see giants, it means he is still looking at the world through the eyes of a child.
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I am a winged creature who is too rarely allowed to use its wings. Ecstasies do not occur often enough.
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The self is merely the lens through which we see others and the world.
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Poetry is the alchemy which teaches us to convert ordinary materials into gold.
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Balance is not to be sought by association with others it must exist within one's self.
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There were silences in my head. I could abandon myself completely to the pleasure of multiple relationships, to the beauty of the day, to the joys of the day. It was as if a cancer in me had ceased gnawing me. The cancer of introspection.
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Anxiety is love's greatest killer, because it is like the stranglehold of the drowning.
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It is a sign of great inner insecurity to be hostile to the unfamiliar.
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But I lie. I embellish. My words are not deep enough. They disguise, they conceal. I will not rest until I have told of my descent into a sensuality which was as dark, as magnificent, as wild, as my moments of mystic creation have been dazzling, ecstatic, exalted.
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What can I do with my happiness? How can I keep it, conceal it, bury it where I may never lose it? I want to kneel as it falls over me like rain, gather it up with lace and silk, and press it over myself again.
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For the neurotic, the merging of the subconscious and the conscious may be risky, just as it is for the users of drugs. But for the writer who is aware of the way in which this connection exists in reality and nourishes creativity, the sooner he can achieve a synthesis among intellect, emotion, and instinct, the sooner his work will be integrated.
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If I fall asleep, it is because I am overloaded. I sleep because one hour with Henry contains five years of my life, and one phrase, one caress answers the expectations of a hundred nights. When I hear him laugh, I say, I have heard Rabelais.. And I swallow his laughter like bread and wine.
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We cannot cure the evils of politics with politics.
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I was stirred only like a leaf in the wind, that is all. . .
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Dreams are essential to life.
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