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Sexual intercourse... a joyous, joyous, joyous, joyous impaling of woman on man's sensual mast.

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
Mast
Masts
Intercourse
Sensual
Joyous
Sexual
Woman
Men

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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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You are the poet, you walk inside my dreams.
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Will you come down and kiss me good night?
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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.
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I either eat too much or starve myself. Sleep for 14 hours or have insomniac nights. Fall in love very hard or hate passionately. I don't know what grey is. I never did.
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He understands my pity for his ridiculous, humiliating physical necessity.
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At first she beckoned and lured one into her world then, she blurred the passageways, confused all the images, as if to elude detection.
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Poverty is the great reality. That is why the artist seeks it.
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Each friend represents a world in us, a world not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.
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Each contact with a human being is so rare, so precious, one should preserve it.
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There are books which we read early in life, which sink into our consciousness and seem to disappear without leaving a trace. And then one day we find, in some summing-up of our life and put attitudes towards experience, that their influence has been enormous.
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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.
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I am aware of being in a beautiful prison, from which I can only escape by writing.
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The leaf fall of his words, the stained glass hues of his moods, the rust in his voice, the smoke in his mouth, his breath on my vision like human breath blinding a mirror.
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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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I love the abstract, delicate, profound, vague, voluptuously wordless sensation of living ecstatically.
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Nothing too long imagined can be perfect in a wordly way.
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In my dreams I sleep with everybody.
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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.
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... America is the greatest humiliator in existence. It is always cultivating the power you get from humiliating others.
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