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
The writer is the duelist who never fights at the stated hour, who gathers up an insult, like another curious object, a… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
The failures are not due to any injustice, but to an inner defect. It is always caused by the person himself. Yes,… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
This image of herself as a not ordinary women, an image which was trembling now in his eyes, might suddenly disappear. Nothing… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
With her eyes alone she could give this response, this absolutely erotic response, as if febrile waves were trembling there, pools of… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
I believe that men are generally still a little afraid of the dark though the witches are all hung, and Christianity and… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
I had a feeling that Pandora's box contained the mysteries of woman's sensuality, so different from a man's and for which man's… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
Talk—half-talk, phrases that had no need to be finished, abstractions, Chinese bells played on with cotton-tipped sticks, mock orange blossoms painted on… — Anais Nin Copy Share Image
No one was ever born without that light or flame of life. Some event, some person stifles or drowns it altogether. I… — 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
