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This image of herself as a not ordinary women, an image which was trembling now in his eyes, might suddenly disappear. Nothing more difficult to live up to than men's dreams.

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
Eye
Difficult
Trembling
Dream
Disappear
Women
Suddenly
Live
Image
Might
Ordinary
Nothing
Dreams
Men
Eyes

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I hate rarely, though when I hate, I hate murderously.
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Some people read to confirm their own hopelessness. Others read to be rescued from it.
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The final lesson a writer learns is that everything can nourish the writer.
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Innocence was gone from all our acts. Our habitual state of rebellion became a serious political crime.
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Each contact with a human being is so rare, so precious, one should preserve it.
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What you burnt, broke, and tore is still in my hands. I am the keeper of fragile things and I have kept of you what is indissoluble.
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I palliate the sufferings of others. yes I see myself as softening the blows, dissolving acids, neutralizing poisons, every moment of the day. I try to fulfill the wishes of others, to perform miracles. I exert myself performing miracles.
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Sometimes I think of Paris not as a city but as a home.
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You can either give negativity power over your life or you can choose happiness instead.
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She had acquired some of his gypsy ways, some of his nonchalance, his bohemian indiscipline. She had swung with him into the disorders of strewn clothes, spilled cigarette ashes, slipping into bed all dressed, falling asleep thus, indolence, timelessness...A region of chaos and moonlight. She liked it there.
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I will not adjust myself to the world. I am adjusted to myself.
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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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I don't wish power, only art -art and passion.
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I have no brakes on...analysis is for those who are paralyzed by life.
Anais Nin
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Anything I can not transform into something marvelous, I let go.
Anais Nin
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Ordinary life does not interest me.
Anais Nin
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Descendants of pigeons once fed by Keats, Byron, George Sand, Chopin and many other famous lovers are still being fed, and the sudden sound when they all rise together, frightened away, is like the sound of giant sails flapping.
Anais Nin
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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.
Anais Nin
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Eroticism is one of the basic means of self-knowledge, as indispensable as poetry.
Anais Nin
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Music melts all the separate parts of our bodies together.
Anais Nin