Anaïs Nin, ich liebe dich.

Mitte der 1930er Jahre schrieb Anaïs Nin in ihr Tagebuch:
„Es treibt die Menschen zur Verzweiflung, dass sie nach einem universellen Sinn des Lebens in seiner Totalität suchen und am Ende nur finden, dass es absurd, unlogisch, sinnlos ist. Das Ganze hat keinen großen, kosmischen Sinn; es gibt nur den Sinn, den wir selbst unserem Leben geben, eine individuelle Bedeutung, einen persönlichen Plan, wie ein individueller Roman, ein Buch für einen allein. Nach der totalen Einheit zu suchen, ist falsch. Jedem Leben soviel Sinn wie möglich zu geben, erscheint mir richtig. Ich gehöre zum Beispiel zu keiner der politischen Bewegungen, die, wie ich, sehe, voller Fanatismus und Ungerechtigkeit sind, aber ich behandle jeden Menschen demokratisch und human. Ich gebe jedem menschlichen Wesen das Seine. Klasse und Besitz interessieren mich nicht. Ich respektiere nur Geist und menschliche Qualitäten, und Bedürfnisse insoweit, als ich fähig bin, sie zu erfüllen. Wenn alle so handeln würden wie ich, gäbe es keine Kriege und keine Armut. Ich habe mich selbst für jeden verantwortlich gemacht, dem ich begegne.“

uff Englisch:

There is not one big cosmic meaning for all, there is only the meaning we each give to our life, an individual meaning, an individual plot, like an individual novel, a book for each person.

If all of us acted in unison as I act individually there would be no wars and no poverty. I have made myself personally responsible for the fate of every human being who has come my way.

mehr von Ihr:

A leaf fluttered in through the window this morning, as if supported by the rays of the sun, a bird settled on the fire escape, joy in the task of coffee, joy accompanied me as I walked.

Dreams pass into the reality of action. From the actions stems the dream again; and this interdependence produces the highest form of living.

Each friend represents a world in us, a world not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.

Good things happen to those who hustle.

How wrong it is for a woman to expect the man to build the world she wants, rather than to create it herself.

I will not be just a tourist in the world of images, just watching images passing by which I cannot live in, make love to, possess as permanent sources of joy and ecstasy.

I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naive or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman.

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.

It is the function of art to renew our perception. What we are familiar with we cease to see. The writer shakes up the familiar scene, and, as if by magic, we see a new meaning in it.

It's all right for a woman to be, above all, human. I am a woman first of all.

Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage.

Living never wore one out so much as the effort not to live.

My ideas usually come not at my desk writing but in the midst of living.

Our life is composed greatly from dreams, from the unconscious, and they must be brought into connection with action. They must be woven together.

People living deeply have no fear of death.

The dream was always running ahead of me. To catch up, to live for a moment in unison with it, that was the miracle.

The personal life deeply lived always expands into truths beyond itself.

The possession of knowledge does not kill the sense of wonder and mystery. There is always more mystery.

The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say.

There are many ways to be free. One of them is to transcend reality by imagination, as I try to do.

There are very few human beings who receive the truth, complete and staggering, by instant illumination. Most of them acquire it fragment by fragment, on a small scale, by successive developments, cellularly, like a laborious mosaic.

Throw your dreams into space like a kite, and you do not know what it will bring back, a new life, a new friend, a new love, a new country.

Truth is something which can't be told in a few words. Those who simplify the universe only reduce the expansion of its meaning.

We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are.

When we blindly adopt a religion, a political system, a literary dogma, we become automatons. We cease to grow.

When you make a world tolerable for yourself, you make a world tolerable for others.

Daher kommts: