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The secret of life was Breath. That was what I always wanted my words to do, to Breathe.
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
Always
Life
Breath
Breaths
Breathe
Secret
Words
Wanted
More quotes by Anais Nin
The obstacle became his alibi for weakness.
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it was while helping others to be free that I gained my own freedom.
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The bed must be a beautiful place, not only because you make love there but because you dream there as well.
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You have a right to experiment with your life. You will make mistakes. And they are right too.
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I don't hear your words: your voice reverberates against my body like another kind of caress, another kind of penetration. I have no power over your voice. It comes straight from you into me. I could stuff my ears and it would find its way into my blood and make it rise.
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You are the poet, you walk inside my dreams.
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When one is pretending the entire body revolts.
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The only transformer and alchemist that turns everything into gold is love. The only magic against death, aging, ordinary life, is love.
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Jazz is the music of the body.
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Passion gives me moments of wholeness.
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You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living.
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Living never wore one out so much as the effort not to live.
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At sixteen, Sabina took moon baths, first of all, because everyone else took sun baths, and second, she admitted, because she had been told it was dangerous.
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I seek the real stuff of life. Profound drama.
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The suppression of inner patterns in favor of patterns created by society is dangerous to us.
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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!
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We don't see things as they are, we see them as we ... believe me naïve or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman.
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destruction is ultimately self-destruction.
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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 have no brakes on...analysis is for those who are paralyzed by life.
Anais Nin