A man who lives unrelated to other human beings dies. But a man who lives unrelated to himself also dies. — 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
“But what a superb game the three of us are playing. Who is the demon? Who is the liar? Who the human… — Anaïs Nin Copy Share Image
The value of the personal relationship to all things is that it creates intimacy and intimacy creates understanding and understanding creates love. — 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
I have a prejudice against people with money. I have known so many, and none have escaped the corruption of power. In… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
Jeanne, I fell asleep among the paintings, where I could sit for many days worshipping your portrait. I fell in love with… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
“Nothing seems true today except the death of the goldfish who used to make love at ninety kilometers an hour in the… — Anaïs Nin Copy Share Image
What a mystery this is, desire. The love sickness, the sensitivity, the obsession, the flutter of the heart, the ebb and flow… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
The bed must be a beautiful place, not only because you make love there but because you dream there as well. — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
“It was this that frightened me--the sense that behind the grande amoureuse lay concealed a little bourgeoise who wanted security in love.” — Anaïs Nin Copy Share Image
“The potion drunk by lovers is prepared by no one but themselves. The potion is the sum of one's whole existence. Every… — Anaïs Nin Copy Share Image
“The drug of love was no escape, for in its coils lie latent dreams of greatness which awaken when men and women… — Anaïs 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
