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Houses turn to corpses overnight when we cease to live and love in them.

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
Houses
Cease
Turn
Turns
House
Live
Love
Overnight
Corpses

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A war regarded as inevitable or even probable, and therefore much prepared for, has a very good chance of eventually being fought.
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Societies in decline have no use for visionaries.
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I hate men who are afraid of women's strength.
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Whenever you do something that is not aligned with the yearning or your soul—you create suffering.
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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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You are the only woman who ever answered the demands of my imagination.
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I often see how you sob over what you destroy, how you want to stop and just worship and you do stop, and then a moment later you are at it again with a knife, like a surgeon.
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The unknown was my compass. The unknown was my encyclopedia. The unnamed was my science and progress.
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The diary taught me that it is in the moments of emotional crisis that human beings reveal themselves most accurately. I learned to choose the heightened moments because they are the moments of revelation.
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Passion gives me moments of wholeness.
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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.
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Things aren't the way they are, they're the way you are
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There is a resemblance between men and women, not a contrast. When a man begins to recognize his feeling, the two unite. When men accept the sensitive side of themselves, they come alive.
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He has, like me, a sense of smell. I let him inhale me, then I slip away.
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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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New York has an electronic heart.
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I want to do things so wild with you that I don't know how to say them.
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Our psychological reality, which lies below the surface, frightens us because it endlessly surprises us and drives us in a direction which society's rules and organizations define as wrong or dangerous.
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Reality doesn’t impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me. I escape, one way or another. No more walls.
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A trite word is an overused word which has lost its identity like an old coat in a second-hand shop. The familiar grows dull and we no longer see, hear, or taste it.
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