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Out of the red and silver and the long cry of alarm to the poet who survives in all human beings, as the child survives in him to this poet she threw an unexpected ladder in the middle of the city and ordained, 'Climb!

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
Cities
Climbs
Survives
Middle
Silver
Alarm
Child
Unexpected
Alarms
Human
Red
Ladder
Humans
Cry
Ladders
Children
Beings
Threw
Long
Poet
Muse
City
Climb
Ordained

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I prefer empty cages, Sabina, until I find a unique bird I once saw in my dreams.
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I sat there for three hours and did not feel the time or the boredom of our talk and its foolish disconnection. As long as I could hear his voice, I was quite lost, quite blind, quite outside my own self.
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Will you come down and kiss me good night?
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I prefer by far the warmth and softness to mere brilliancy and coldness. Some people remind me of sharp dazzling diamonds. Valuable but lifeless and loveless. Others, of the simplest field flowers, with hearts full of dew and with all the tints of celestial beauty reflected in their modest petals.
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I love the abstract, delicate, profound, vague, voluptuously wordless sensation of living ecstatically.
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I must know, he thinks. It must be clear to me. There is a world which is closed to him, a world of shadings, gradations, nuances, and subtleties. He is a genius and yet he is too explicit. June slips between his fingers. You cannot posses without loving.
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For all of my patients sensuality is a giving in to 'the low side of their nature.' Puritanism is powerful and distorts their life with a total anesthesia of the senses. If you atrophy one sense, you also atrophy all the others, a sensuous and physical connection with nature, with art, with food, with other human beings.
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This diary is my kief, hashish and opium pipe. This is my drug and my vice.
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How wrong it is for a woman to expect the man to build the world she wants, rather than to create it herself.
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I'm restless. Things are calling me away. My hair is being pulled by the stars again. ANAÏS NIN, Fire: From A Journal of Love The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1934-1938 For me, the adventures of the mind, each inflection of thought, each movement, nuance, growth, discovery, is a source of exhilaration.
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Everything with me is either worship and passion or pity and understanding. I hate rarely, though when I hate. I hate murderously.
Anais Nin
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Convalescence. Such an utter weakness that you lie like an animal hibernating, playing possum. You float. You are adrift. Every current is stronger than you.
Anais Nin
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Great repressions create dualities.
Anais Nin
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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.
Anais Nin
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Through love, through friendship, a heart lives more than one life.
Anais Nin
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I’m restless. Things are calling me away. My hair is being pulled by the stars 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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Life is so fluid that one can only hope to capture the living moment, to capture it alive and fresh ... without destroying that moment.
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Analysis does not take into account the creative products of neurotic desires.
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Our life is composed greatly from dreams, from the unconscious, and they must be brought into connection with action. They must be woven together.
Anais Nin