Ina

“There is no exquisite beauty… without some strangeness in the proportion.”
― Edgar Allan Poe

“Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.”
― Anais Nin

“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 up of layers, cells, constellations.”
― Anais Nin

“Sometimes we reveal ourselves when we are least like ourselves.”
― Anaïs Nin, Henry and June: From the Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin