Explore Quotes by Anais Nin

I don't tell the truth any more to those who can't make use of it. I tell it mostly to myself, because it always changes me.

Don't let one cloud obliterate the whole sky.

The risk it takes to remain tight inside the bud_x000D__x000D_is more painful than the risk it takes to blossom._x000D__x000D_We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are.

I know why families were created with all their imperfections. They humanize you. They are made to make you forget yourself occasionally, so that the beautiful balance of life is not destroyed.

How wrong it is for a woman to expect the man to build the world she wants, rather than to create it herself.

A war regarded as inevitable or even probable, and therefore much prepared for, has a very good chance of eventually being fought.

I want to fall in love in such a way that the mere sight of a man, even a block away from me, will shake and pierce me, will weaken me, and make me tremble and soften and melt.

My mission, should I choose to accept it, is to find peace with exactly who and what I am. To take pride in my thoughts, my appearance, my talents, my flaws and to stop this incessant worrying that I can’t be loved as I am.

My life is not possible to tell. I change every day, change my patterns, my concepts, my interpretations. I am a series of moods and sensations. I play a thousand roles. I weep when I find others play them for me. My real self is unknown. My work is merely an essence of this vast and deep adventure.

It is easy to love and there are so many ways to do it.

We did not touch each other. We were both leaning over the abyss.

I have seen romanticism outlast the realistic. I have seen men forget the beautiful women they have possessed, forget the prostitutes, and remember the first woman they idolized, the woman they could never have. The woman who aroused them romantically holds them.

I want to love you wildly. I don’t want words, but inarticulate cries, meaningless, from the bottom of my most primitive being, that flow from my belly like honey. A piercing joy, that leaves me empty, conquered, silenced.

I can’t let you go now. I want to go places with you; obscure little places, just to be able to say: here I came with her.

I’m restless. Things are calling me away. My hair is being pulled by the stars again.

With her eyes alone she could give this response, this absolutely erotic response, as if febrile waves were trembling there, pools of madness... something devouring that could lick a man all over like a flame, annihilate him, with a pleasure never known before.

I told her, "We have both lost ourselves, but sometimes we reveal the most when we are least like ourselves. I am not trying to think any more. I can't think when I am with you. You are like me, wishing for a perfect moment, but nothing too long imagined can be perfect in a worldly way. Neither one of us can say just the right thing. We are overwhelmed. Let us be overwhelmed. It is so lovely, so lovely. I love you June.

The love of only one man or one woman is an enclosure.

Why do I doubt her? Perhaps she is just very sensitive, and hypersensitive people are false when others doubt them; they waver. And one thinks them insincere. Yet I want to believe her. At the same time it does not seem so very important that she should love me. It is not her role. I am so filled with my love of her. And at the same time I feel that I am dying. Our love would be death. The embrace of imaginings.

He has, like me, a sense of smell. I let him inhale me, then I slip away.

Where the myth fails, human love begins. Then we love a human being, not our dream, but a human being with flaws.