#the diary of anais nin
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Anaïs Nin, from The Diary of Anaïs Nin, vol. IV: 1944-1947
#typography#anaïs nin#anais nin#the diary of anais nin#diaries#we are never trapped unless we choose to be#💔#note to self
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fall in love and fall apart / things will end before they start
Anaïs Nin excerpt from The Diary of Anaïs Nin, vol. 4: 1944-1947 / unknown / unknown / Jane Rhys excerpt from Wide Sargasso Sea / Marya Hornbacher excerpt from Waiting / Sue Zhao / Lucille Clifton from The Book of Light; "Climbing" / Courtney Peppernell excerpt from Pillow Thoughts / Ross Gay excerpt from Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude
i. Anais Nin, The Diary of Anais Nin
[ "I was always ashamed to take. So I gave. It was not a virtue. It was a disguise." ]
ii. unknown
[ Gray, washed out image of a faceless woman standing in long, thick robes holding a bouquet of flowers. "I know that you loved me / I also know that you destroyed me" ]
iii. unknown
[ Grainy, black and white image of two hands covering a woman's eyes and mouth from behind. She has her hands on top of theirs. "& what an ugly thing / to have someone see you." ]
iv. Jane Rhys, Wide Sargasso Sea
[ "I had two longings and one was fighting the other. I wanted to be loved and I wanted to be always alone." ]
v. Marya Hornbacher, Waiting
[ "I fight. I resist. It doesn't even matter what I resist; there is simply something in me that tends to resist things as they are. I have been fighting since I was very small." ]
vi. Sue Zhao
[ "Oh, I could call you names now. List a hundred reasons for why you were awful. But what would that do? Where would it leave me? I still loved you. I still have to live with that." ]
vii. Lucille Clifton, Climbing
[ "maybe i should have wanted less. / maybe i should have ignored the bowl in me burning to be filled. / maybe i should have wanted less." ]
viii. Courtney Peppernell, Pillow Thoughts
[ "The tragedy of what could have been / is nearly as crippling as what once was / but can never be again." ]
ix. Ross Gay, Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude
[ "I am sorry. I am grateful. / I just want us to be friends now, forever. / Take this bowl of blackberries from the garden. / The sun has made them warm. / I picked them just for you. I promise. / I will try to stay on my side of the couch." ]
#web weave#poetry#on heartbreak#on loneliness#on emotion#on sadness#words#writing#poem#spilled ink#spilled thoughts#dark academia#spilled poetry#dark academia poetry#dark academia quote#web weaving#poetry web weave#literature#anais nin#the diary of anais nin#jane rhys#wide sargasso sea#marya hornbacher#waiting#sue zhao#lucille clifton#the book of light#climbing#courtney peppernell#pillow thoughts
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(…) serious, intelligent, strong.
—Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin 1939-44
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“The transparency of the child skin, of the adolescent later to turn opaque. […] The mothers who kiss them are eating light. There is a phosphorescence which comes from the magic world of childhood. Where does this illumination go later? Is it the substance of faith which shines from their bodies like phosphorescence from the albatross, and what kills it?”
— Anaïs Nin, from "The Sealed Room" in "Children of the Albatross", 1959.
#queen anais nin#the diary of anais nin#anais nin quotes#anais nin#anaïs nin#the diary of anaïs nin#children of the albatross#literature#writing#writing and poetry#poetry#beautiful writing#amoriginals#patroclusplaylist#mindlife#light acamedia#nature#dark academia
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I could not live in any of the worlds offered to me — the world of my parents, the world of war, the world of politics. I had to create a world of my own, like a climate, a country, an atmosphere in which I could breathe, reign, and recreate myself when destroyed by living.
—Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 5: 1947-1955
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I kept saying there were men who always behaved like children, and she and I had accepted the role of young mothers, for thus are so many acts of men transfigured. The woman accepts a maternal role, and then she can forgive anything. The child does not know when he is hurting the mother. A child does not notice weariness, pain. He gives nothing and demands everything. If the mother weeps he will throw his arms around her, then he will go on doing what hurt her before. The child never thinks of the mother except as the all-giving, the all-forgiving, the inexhaustible, eternal love. The child devours the mother.
The Diary of Anais Nin Volume II
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where the window journeys
[all images have alt text]
#the quoted and the devoted and me#the diary of anais nin#anais nïn#moodboards and madness and me#ciara’s convos#road trip today#photography
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I postpone death by living, by suffering, by error, by risking, by giving, by losing.
Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin
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Anaïs Nin, from the diary of Anais Nin, vol. VI: 1955-1966
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Anaïs Nin, from a diary entry written c. October 1936, featured in The Diary of Anaïs Nin Vol. 2
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I was always ashamed to take. So I gave. It was not a virtue. It was a disguise.
Anaïs Nin, The Diary Of Anais Nin, Vol. 4: 1944-1947
#anais nin#the diary of anaïs nin: 1931 1934#quotes#literature#classic literature#selfhood#dark academia
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the beautiful writings of anaïs nin+sculpture sketches by gustav vigeland
“There are few human beings who receive the truth complete and staggering, by instant illumination. Most of them aquire it fragment by fragment, on a small scale, by successive developments, cellular, like a laborious mosaic.”
#amoriginals#patroclusplaylist#mindlife#writing and poetry#writing#light acamedia#dark academia#gustav vigeland#vigeland#anais nin#anaïs nin#the diary of anaïs nin#the diary of anais nin#sculpture#books#urge to write#quotes#quote#the diary of anais nin volume 3
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She only believed in intimacy and proximity, in confessions born in the darkness of a bedroom, in quarrels born of alcohol, in communions born of exhausting walks through the city. She only believed in those words which came like the confessions of criminals after long exposure to hunger, to intense lights, to cross-questioning, to violent tearing away of masks. -Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin
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It is a perversity to be jealous of the past because the past is usually made of ashes. But with the artist the past survives in another form, and I can understand those who are jealous of the past of an artist. It becomes a monument. Examine the past of most people, and you find a neat cemetery or an urn with ashes. But examine the past of an artist and you find monuments to its perpetuity, a book, a statue, a painting, a symphony, a poem.
The Diary of Anais Nin
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