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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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We efface an hour by passionate love, without twists, without aftertaste. When it is finished, it is not finished, we lie still in each other's arms lulled by our love, by tenderness -- sensuality in which the whole being can participate.
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The self is merely the lens through which we see others and the world.
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Paris-New York, the two high tension magnetic poles between life, life of the senses, of the spirit in Paris, and life in action in New York.
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When I first met him, he did not care if a friend did not fit into his world, because at that time his world had not been born yet.
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The secret of life was Breath. That was what I always wanted my words to do, to Breathe.
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Introspection is a devouring monster. You have to feed it with much material, much experience, many people, many places, many loves, many creations, and then it ceases feeding on you.
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I believe one writes because one has to create a world in which one can live.
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Art is the method of levitation, in order to separate one's self from enslavement by the earth.
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The risk it takes to remain tight inside the bud is more painful than the risk it takes to blossom. We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are.
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The child who is uprooted begins to recognize that what he builds within himself is what will endure, what will withstand shattering experiences.
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All unlived emotions turn to inanity.
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Ordinary life does not interest me.
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The secret of joy is the mastery of pain.
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The period without the diary remains an ordeal. Every evening I want my diary as one wants opium.
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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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Life is so fluid that one can only hope to capture the living moment, to capture it alive and fresh ... without destroying that moment.
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You live out the confusions until they become clear.
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Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through.
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Writing more and more to the sound of music, writing more and more like music. Sitting in my studio tonight, playing record after record, writing, music a stimulant of the highest order, far more potent than wine.
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If I love you it means we share the same fantasies, the same madnesses
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