Anaïs Nin cytaty
strona 2

Anaïs Nin – amerykańska pisarka pochodzenia duńsko-francuskiego po matce i kubańsko-katalońskiego po ojcu . W 1914 roku wyjechała z matką i braćmi do Stanów Zjednoczonych, skąd wróciła do Francji w 1924. W latach 20. i 30. obracała się wśród artystycznej bohemy Paryża. Głośny był jej związek z Henrym Millerem i jego żoną, June. Jej debiut literacki przypada na lata trzydzieste XX w. Po tym okresie Nin powróciła do Nowego Jorku. Przez pewien czas zajmowała się psychoanalizą .

Najbardziej znana ze swojego Dziennika, który obejmuje ponad 60 lat. Pisała również powieści, opowiadania i literaturę erotyczną. Wiele jej prac, w tym Delta Wenus i Małe ptaszki, zostało opublikowanych pośmiertnie. Wikipedia  

✵ 21. Luty 1903 – 14. Styczeń 1977   •   Natępne imiona Anais Ninová
Anaïs Nin: 325   Cytatów 1   Polubienie

Anaïs Nin słynne cytaty

Anaïs Nin Cytaty o kobietach

„Pan zredukował kobietę do pochwy. Proponuję pomoc w przeróbkach tekstów.”

w liściku do Henry’ego Millera.
Związek z Henrym Millerem
Źródło: Dzienniki

Anaïs Nin cytaty

„A zatem wolno wszystko.”

notatka po pierwszej nocy z ojcem.
Źródło: Dzienniki

„To była dziewczynka, lepiej nie pokazujcie jej dziecka.”

o swoim martwym dziecku.
Poronienie

„Opisałam w dzienniku tysiąc osób. Więcej niż Balzac.”

o swoim dzienniku.

„Oddycham swobodnie. Jestem u siebie. Jestem sobą.”

o wspólnie spędzonych chwilach.
Związek z Henrym Millerem

„A więc ten niepokój nie ustaje nigdy.”

po pierwszych doświadczeniach bigamicznych.

„Gdy mam do czynienia z ludźmi przeciętnymi, chce mi się szczekać!”

odpowiedź Nin dla szefa wydawnictwa Dutton na odmowę wydrukowania drugiej książki, Children of the Albatross, która brzmiała Obawiamy się, że opisy pani problemów duchowych nie znajdą czytelników, tak jak nie znalazła ich pani książka „Ladders to Fire”.

„Powiedz, powiedz mi, co czujesz!”

woła. Nie mogę. Oczy przesłania mi krwawa mgła, czuję pulsowanie w czaszce. Mam ochotę krzyczeć dziko, bez słów, bez sensu, wydobywać nieartykułowane dźwięki z najpierwotniejszego rdzenia mojego jestestwa, tryskające z mojej macicy niczym miód. Wyciskająca łzy z oczu rozkosz, potem leżę cicho, pokonana, uspokojona.
o związku z pisarzem Henrym Millerem.
Związek z Henrym Millerem
Źródło: Henry i June

Anaïs Nin: Cytaty po angielsku

“Sometimes we reveal ourselves when we are least like ourselves.”

Źródło: Henry and June: From "A Journal of Love"--The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin

“Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through. Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death.”

D. H. Lawrence : An Unprofessional Study (1932); also quoted in The Mirror and the Garden : Realism and Reality in the Writings of Anais Nin (1971) by Evelyn J. Hinz, p. 40

“I postpone death by living, by suffering, by error, by risking, by giving, by losing.”

March, 1933 http://books.google.com/books?id=Ps_DtS_PFb4C&q=%22I+postpone+death+by+living+by+suffering+by+error+by+risking+by+giving+by+losing%22&pg=PT203#v=onepage
Diary entries (1914 - 1974)

“What I cannot love, I overlook.”

Wariant: What I cannot love, I overlook. Is that real friendship?

“She lacks confidence, she craves admiration insatiably. She lives on the reflections of herself in the eyes of others. She does not dare to be herself.”

Wariant: She lacks the core of sureness, she craves admiration insatiably. She lives on reflections of herself in others' eyes. She does not dare to be herself.
Źródło: Henry and June: From "A Journal of Love"--The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin

“Feelings are images, sensations are like musical sounds.”

February, 1932<!-- p. 51 -->
Diary entries (1914 - 1974)
Kontekst: We don't have a language for the senses. Feelings are images, sensations are like musical sounds.

“All writers have concealed more than they revealed.”

Anaïs Nin książka The Diary of Anaïs Nin

The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 5
Diary entries (1914 - 1974)
Kontekst: One handles truths like dynamite. Literature is one vast hypocrisy, a giant deception, treachery. All writers have concealed more than they revealed.

“In the world of the dreamer there was solitude: all the exaltations and joys came in the moment of preparation for living. They took place in solitude.”

Children of the Albatross (1947)
Kontekst: In the world of the dreamer there was solitude: all the exaltations and joys came in the moment of preparation for living. They took place in solitude. But with action came anxiety, and the sense of insuperable effort made to match the dream, and with it came weariness, discouragement, and the flight into solitude again. And then in solitude, in the opium den of remembrance, the possibility of pleasure again.

“We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made of layers, cells, constellations.”

The Diary of Anaïs Nin Vol. 4 (1971); as quoted in Journal of Phenomenological Psychology Vol. 15 (1984)
Diary entries (1914 - 1974)
Kontekst: We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another, unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made of layers, cells, constellations.

“I had always believed in Andre Breton's freedom, to write as one thinks, in the order and disorder in which one feels in thinks, to follow sensations and absurd correlations of events and images, to trust to the new realms they lead one into. "The cult of the marvelous."”

Winter, 1931-1932 The Diary of Anaïs Nin , Volume One 1931-1934 <!-- p. 11 -->
Diary entries (1914 - 1974)
Kontekst: I had always believed in Andre Breton's freedom, to write as one thinks, in the order and disorder in which one feels in thinks, to follow sensations and absurd correlations of events and images, to trust to the new realms they lead one into. "The cult of the marvelous." Also the cult of the unconscious leadership, the cult of mystery, the evasion of false logic. The cult of the unconscious as proclaimed by Rimbaud. It is not madness. It is an effort to transcend the rigidities and the patterns made by the rational mind.

“The artist is the only one who knows that the world is a subjective creation, that there is a choice to be made, a selection of elements.”

February 1954 The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 5 as quoted in Woman as Writer (1978) by Jeannette L. Webber and Joan Grumman, p. 38
Diary entries (1914 - 1974)
Kontekst: The artist is the only one who knows that the world is a subjective creation, that there is a choice to be made, a selection of elements. It is a materialization, an incarnation of his inner world. Then he hopes to attract others into it. He hopes to impose his particular vision and share it with others. And when the second stage is not reached, the brave artist continues nevertheless. The few moments of communion with the world are worth the pain, for it is a world for others, an inheritance for others, a gift to others, in the end. When you make a world tolerable for yourself, you make a world tolerable for others.
We also write to heighten our own awareness of life. We write to lure and enchant and console others. We write to serenade our lovers. We write to taste life twice, in the moment, and in retrospection. We write, like Proust, to render all of it eternal, and to persuade ourselves that it is eternal. We write to be able to transcend our life, to reach beyond it. We write to teach ourselves to speak with others, to record the journey into the labyrinth. We write to expand our world when we feel strangled, or constricted, or lonely. We write as the birds sing, as the primitives dance their rituals. If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don't write, because our culture has no use for it. When I don't write, I feel my world shrinking. I feel I am in a prison. I feel I lose my fire and my color. It should be a necessity, as the sea needs to heave, and I call it breathing.

“The morning I got up to begin this book I coughed. Something was coming out of my throat: it was strangling me.”

Anaïs Nin książka House of Incest

House of Incest (1936)
Kontekst: The morning I got up to begin this book I coughed. Something was coming out of my throat: it was strangling me. I broke the thread which held it and yanked it out. I went back to bed and said: I have just spat out my heart.

“The writer's responsibility is to increase, develop our senses, expand our vision, heighten our awareness and enrich our articulateness.”

Anaïs Nin książka The Diary of Anaïs Nin

The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 5, as quoted in Moving to Antarctica : An Anthology of Women's Writing (1975) by Margaret Kaminski
Diary entries (1914 - 1974)
Kontekst: The role of the writer is not to say what we can all say, but what we are unable to say. Most of the writing today which is called fiction contains such a poverty of language, such triteness, that it is a shrunken, diminished world we enter, poorer and more formless than the poorest cripple deprived of ears and eyes and tongue. The writer's responsibility is to increase, develop our senses, expand our vision, heighten our awareness and enrich our articulateness.

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