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Anais Nin Quotes - Page 19

All Quotes Acceptance Adventure Age Anxiety Art Attitude Balance Betrayal Blindness Break Up Business Change Chaos Character Children Confidence Courage Creation Creativity Crime Culture Curiosity Death Desire Destiny Dying Earth Effort Evil Failing Falling In Love Fate Fear Feelings Freedom Friendship Giving Gold Guilt Happiness Hate Heart Heartbreak Hunger Hurt Imagination Individuality Innocence Inspirational Inspiring Jazz Journey Joy Judging Kissing Knowledge Language Laughter Letting Go Life Love Lying Madness Magic Making Love Marriage Memories Motivational Moving On Music Myth Pain Passion Past Perfection Personality Positivity Poverty Prejudice Progress Reality Reflection Risk Romanticism Silence Sisterhood Sleep Solitude Soul Strength Struggle Submission Suffering Tragedy Travel Truth Ugliness Understanding Violence Virtue Vision Waiting Wall War Weakness Wife Wine Worship Writing

Three or four threads may be agitated, like telegraph wires, at the same time, and if I were to tap them all I would reveal such a mixture of innocence and duplicity, generosity and calculation, fear and courage, I

Three or four threads may be agitated, like telegraph wires, at the same time, and if I were to tap them all I would reveal such a mixture of innocence and duplicity, generosity and calculation, fear and courage, I cannot tell the whole truth simply because I would have to write four journals at once.

Writing, Duplicity, Generosity

It is my secrecy which makes you unhappy, my evasions, my silences. And so I have found a solution. Whenever you get desperate with my mysteries, my ambiguities, here is a set of Chinese puzzle boxes. You have always said that I was myself a Chinese puzzle box. When you are in the mood and I baffle your love of confidences, your love of openness, your love of sharing experiences, then open one of the boxes. And in it you will find a story, a story about me and my life. Do you like this idea? Do you think it will help us to live together?

Thinking, Ideas, Silence

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.

Lying, Reality, Organization

When I don't write, I feel my world shrinking. I feel I am in a prison. I feel I lose my fire and my color. It should be a necessity, as the sea needs to heave, and I call it breathing.

Writing, Fire, Color

"Woman as Writer" by Jeannette L. Webber and Joan Grumman, (p. 38), 1978.

I only regret that everybody wants to deprive me of the journal, which is the only steadfast friend I have, the only one which makes my life bearable, because my happiness with human beings is so precarious, my confiding moods rare, and the least sign of non-interest is enough to silence me. In the journal I am at ease.

Regret, Silence, Ease

The child in me could not die as it should have died, because according too legends it must find its father again. The old legends knew, perhaps, that in absence the father becomes glorified, deified, eroticized, and this outrage against God the Father has to be atoned for. The human father has to be confronted and recognized as human, as man who created a child and then, by his absence, left the child fatherless and then Godless.

Children, Father, Men

But the artist persists because he has the will to create, and this is the magic power which can transform and transfigure and transpose and which will ultimately be transmitted to others.

Inspiring, Artist, Empowering

The city was asleep on its right side and shaking with violent nightmares. Long puffs of snoring came out of the chimneys. Its feet were sticking out because the clouds did not cover it altogether. There was a hole in them and the white feathers were falling out. The city had untied all its bridges like so many buttons to feel at ease. Wherever there was a lamplight the city scratched itself until it went out.

Fall, Clouds, Bridges

If you are terribly truthful, the ground will always move from under you, and you will have to shift with the constantly shifting truth.

Truth, Moving, Shifting

To write at the same temperature at which I live I should write nothing but poetry.

Writing, Temperature, Should

I'm sick of my own romanticism!

Sick, My Own, Romanticism

The dream has to be translated into reality.

Dream, Reality

"The Novel of the Future". Book by Anais Nin, 1969.

At first I protested and rebelled against poetry. I was about to deny my poetic worlds. I was doing violence to my illusions with analysis, science, and learning Henry’s language, entering Henry’s world. I wanted to destroy by violence and animalism my tenuous fantasies and illusions and my hypersensitivity. A kind of suicide. The ignominy awakened me. Then June came and answered the cravings of my imagination and saved me. Or perhaps she killed me, for now I am started on a course of madness.

Suicide, June, Imagination

The shell is America's most active contribution to the formation of character. A tough hide. Grow it early.

Character, America, Shells

The impetus to grow and live intensely is so powerful in me I cannot resist it. I will work, I will love my husband, but I will fulfill myself.

Powerful, Husband, Grows

The failures are not due to any injustice, but to an inner defect. It is always caused by the person himself. Yes, I know, you think you are doing an act of justice. But they will only suck you dry, wear out your energy, nourish themselves on your ideas. After being the most compassionate man in the world, I say to you today: Let the weak ones die, let them commit suicide.

Suicide, Men, Thinking

We three belong to the Middle Ages. We have this need of heroism, and there is no place for such feelings in modern life. That is our tragedy. Once I wanted to be a saint. It seemed the only absolute act left to do, for what is most powerful in me is the craving for purity, greatness.

Powerful, Greatness, Feelings

How well I know with what burning intensity you live. You have experienced many lives already, including several you have shared with me- full rich lives from birth to death, and you just have to have these rest periods in between.

Stress, Rich Life, Burning

The final lesson a writer learns is that everything can nourish the writer.

Finals, Lessons

"French Writers of the Past" by Carol A. Dingle, (p. 126), 2000.

The poet is one who is able to keep the fresh vision of the child alive.

Life, Children, Abuse

"French Writers of the Past" by Carol A. Dingle, (p. 127), 2000.

We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are." Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage "People living deeply have no fear of death.

Inspirational Life, People, No Fear

The human father has to be confronted and recognized as human, as man who created a child and then, by his absence, left the child fatherless and then Godless.

Children, Dad, Father

I want to be a writer who reminds others that these moments exist; I want to prove that there is infinite space, infinite meaning, infinite dimension

Space, Want, Dimensions

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.

Dream, Eye, Men

"Children of the Albatross". Book by Anais Nin, 1947.

I gathered poets around me and we all wrote beautiful erotica. As we were condemned to focus only on sensuality, we had violent explosions of poetry. Writing erotica became a road to sainthood rather than to debauchery.

Beautiful, Writing, Focus

Anais Nin (1977). “DELTA OF VENUS EROTICA”

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