Too late for changes, too late perhaps for explanations and ideological webs, but the love goes on, the love goes on, blind to laws and warnings and even to wisdom and to fears. And whatever that love is, perhaps an… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
“…For love it is never the same. What goes on inside is never the same just like this music which changes every instant. For… — Anaïs Nin Copy Share
Jazz is the music of the body. The breath comes through brass. It is the body's breath, and the strings' wails and moans are… — Anais Nin Copy Share
I have so strong a sense of creation, of tomorrow, that I cannot get drunk, knowing I will be less alive, less well, less… — Anais Nin Copy Share
We don't have a language for the senses. Feelings are images, sensations are like musical sounds. — Anais Nin Copy Share
Strange, isn't it, that no chemical will give a human being the iridescence that illusions have given them? Give me your hat. — Anais Nin Copy Share
Introspection is a devouring monster. You have to feed it with much material, much experience, many people, many places, many loves, many creations, and… — Anais Nin Copy Share
In each studio there is a human being dressed in the full regalia of his myth fearing to expore a vulnerable opening, spreading not… — Anais Nin Copy Share
I don't mind working, holding my ground intellectually, artistically; but as a woman, oh, God, as a woman I want to be dominated — Anais Nin Copy Share
“Laughter and tears are not separate experiences, with intervals of rest: they rush out together and it is like walking with a sword between… — Anaïs Nin Copy Share
The basis of insincerity is the idealized image we hold of ourselves and wish to impose on others. — Anais Nin Copy Share
The role of the writer is not to say what we can all say, but what we are unable to say. Most of the… — Anais Nin Copy Share
I say quotations are literary. They are good only when dealing with ideas, not with experience. Experience should be pure, unique. — Anais Nin Copy Share
