A leaf fluttered in through the window this morning, as if supported by the rays of the sun, a bird settled on… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
In the world of the dreamer there was solitude: all the exaltations and joys came in the moment of preparation for living.… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
One discovers that destiny can be diverted, that one does not have to remain in bondage to the first wax imprint made… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
I want to love you wildly. I don’t want words, but inarticulate cries, meaningless, from the bottom of my most primitive being,… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
There were silences in my head. I could abandon myself completely to the pleasure of multiple relationships, to the beauty of the… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
Tranquillity is contagious, peace is contagious. One only thinks of the contagiousness of illness, but there is the contagion of serenity and… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
I will not be just a tourist in the world of images, just watching images passing by which I cannot live in,… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
I find that life, day by day, is composed of at least one joy, one problem and one sorrow. Then there are… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
For you and for me the highest moment, the keenest joy, is not when our minds dominate but when we lose our… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
Then at certain moments I remember one of his words and I suddenly feel the sensual woman flaring up, as if violently… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
I know no joy as great as a moment of rushing into a new love, no ecstasy like that of a new… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
In the world of the dreamer there was solitude: all the exaltations and joys came in the moment of preparation for living.… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
Physical experiences, lacking the joys of love, depend on twists and perversions of pleasure. Abnormal pleasures kill the taste for normal ones. — 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 Image
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 Image
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 Image
We don't have a language for the senses. Feelings are images, sensations are like musical sounds. — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
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 Image
The personal, if it is deep enough, becomes universal, mythical, symbolic. — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
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 Image
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 Image
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 Image
“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 Image
The basis of insincerity is the idealized image we hold of ourselves and wish to impose on others. — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
