Sherri > Sherri's Quotes

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  • #1
    Henry Miller
    “Anaïs, I don't know how to tell you what I feel. I live in perpetual expectancy. You come and the time slips away in a dream. It is only when you go that I realize completely your presence. And then it is too late. You numb me. [...] This is a little drunken, Anaïs. I am saying to myself "here is the first woman with whom I can be absolutely sincere." I remember your saying - "you could fool me, I wouldn't know it." When I walk along the boulevards and think of that. I can't fool you - and yet I would like to. I mean that I can never be absolutely loyal - it's not in me. I love women, or life, too much - which it is, I don't know. But laugh, Anaïs, I love to hear you laugh. You are the only woman who has a sense of gaiety, a wise tolerance - no more, you seem to urge me to betray you. I love you for that. [...]
    I don't know what to expect of you, but it is something in the way of a miracle. I am going to demand everything of you - even the impossible, because you encourage it. You are really strong. I even like your deceit, your treachery. It seems aristocratic to me.”
    Henry Miller, A Literate Passion: Letters of Anaïs Nin & Henry Miller, 1932-1953
    tags: love

  • #2
    Henry Miller
    “I want to undress you, vulgarize you a bit.”
    Henry Miller, A Literate Passion: Letters of Anaïs Nin & Henry Miller, 1932-1953
    tags: sex

  • #3
    Henry Miller
    “When you surrender, the problem ceases to exist. Try to solve it,or conquer it, and you only set up more resistance. I am very certain now that, as I said therein, if I truly become what I wish to be, the burden will fall away. The most difficult thing to admit, and to realize with one’s whole being, is that you alone control nothing.”
    Henry Miller, A Literate Passion: Letters of Anaïs Nin & Henry Miller, 1932-1953

  • #4
    Anaïs Nin
    “Before, as soon as I came home from all sorts of places I would sit down and write in my journal. Now I want to write you, talk with you... I love when you say all that happens is good, it is good. I say all that happens is wonderful. For me it is all symphonic, and I am so aroused by living - god, Henry, in you alone I have found the same swelling of enthusiasm, the same quick rising of the blood, the fullness... Before, I almost used to think there was something wrong. Everybody else seemed to have the brakes on... I never feel the brakes. I overflow. And when I feel your excitement about life flaring, next to mine, then it makes me dizzy.”
    Anaïs Nin, A Literate Passion: Letters of Anaïs Nin & Henry Miller, 1932-1953

  • #5
    Anaïs Nin
    “It is true that I create over and over again the same difficulties for myself in order to struggle over and over again to master them [but] to continually struggle against the same problem and to continually fail to dominate it brings a feeling of frustration and a kind of paralysis. What is necessary to life, to livingness, is to move on, in other words to move from one kind of problem to another.”
    Anaïs Nin, A Literate Passion: Letters of Anaïs Nin & Henry Miller, 1932-1953

  • #6
    Anaïs Nin
    “Things I forgot to tell you:

    That I love you, and that when I awake in the morning I use my intelligence to discover more ways of appreciating you.

    That when June comes back she will love you more because I have loved you. There are new leaves on the tip and climax of your already overrich head.

    That I love you.
    That I love you.
    That I love you.

    I have become an idiot like Gertrude Stein. That’s what love does to intelligent women. They cannot write letters anymore.”
    Anaïs Nin, A Literate Passion: Letters of Anaïs Nin & Henry Miller, 1932-1953
    tags: love

  • #7
    Henry Miller
    “That we cannot rise equal to situations when we are in them — that is the tragedy of life.”
    Henry Miller, A Literate Passion: Letters of Anaïs Nin & Henry Miller, 1932-1953

  • #8
    Henry Miller
    “Don't expect me to be sane anymore. Don't let's be sensible. It was a marriage at Louveciennes—you can't dispute it. I came away with pieces of you sticking to me; I am walking about, swimming, in an ocean of blood, your Andalusian blood, distilled and poisonous... I can't see how I can go on living away from you—these intermissions are death. How did it seem to you when Hugo came back? Was I still there? I can't picture you moving about with him as you did with me. Legs closed. Frailty. Sweet, treacherous acquiescence. Bird docility. You became a woman with me. I was almost terrified by it. You are not just thirty years old—you are a thousand years old.

    Here I am back and still smouldering with passion, like wine smoking. Not a passion any longer for flesh, but a complete hunger for you, a devouring hunger.”
    Henry Miller, A Literate Passion: Letters of Anaïs Nin & Henry Miller, 1932-1953



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