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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
Secret
Words
Wanted
Always
Life
Breath
Breaths
Breathe

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Guilt is the one burden human beings can't bear alone.
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You are the poet, you walk inside my dreams.
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When I stand at the top of the Champs-Elysées, with its chestnut trees in flower, its undulations of shining cars, its white spaciousness, I feel as if I were biting into a utopian fruit, something velvety and lustrous and rich and vivid.
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Where the myth fails, human love begins. Then we love a human being, not our dream, but a human being with flaws.
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I am lonely, yet not everybody will do. I don't know why, some people fill the gaps and others emphasize my loneliness. In reality those who satisfy me are those who simply allow me to live with my ''idea of them.
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We love best those who are, or act for us, a self we do not wish to be or act out.
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Idealism is the death of the body and the imagination. All but freedom, utter freedom, is death
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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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I write emotional algebra.
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For too many centuries women have been being muses to artists. I wanted to be the muse, I wanted to be the wife of the artist, but I was really trying to avoid the final issue — that I had to do the job myself.
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I needed to live, but I also needed to record what I lived.
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A big enough artist, I say, can eat anything, must eat everything and then alchemize it. Only the feeble writer is afraid of expansion.
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The source of sexual power is curiosity, passion. You are watching its little flame die of asphyxiation.
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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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Warmth, perfume, rugs, soft lights, books. They do not appease me. I am aware of time passing, of all the world contains that I have not seen, of all the interesting people I have not met.
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The truly faithless one is the one who makes love to only a fraction of you. And denies the rest.
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I am like a snake who has already bitten. I retreat from a direct battle while knowing the slow effect of the poison.
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I see enormous loves growing immense and finally crushing me.
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She was fully, painfully aware that very rarely did midnight strike in two hearts at once, very rarely did midnight arouse two different equal desires, and that any dislocation in this, any indifference, was an indication of disunity, of the difficulties, the impossibilities of fusion between two human beings.
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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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