I am apparently gentle, unstable, and full of pretenses. I will die a poet killed by the nonpoets, will renounce no dream, resign myself to no ugliness, accept nothing of the world but the one I made myself. I wrote, lived, loved like Don Quixote, and on the day of my death I will say: ‘Excuse me, it was all a dream,’ and by that time I may have found one who will say: ‘Not at all, it was true, absolutely true.’
Anais NinThe man who was once starved may revenge himself upon the world not by stealing just once, or by stealing only what he needs, but by taking from the world an endless toll in payment of something irreplaceable, which is the lost faith.
Anais NinNothing endures unless it has first been transposed into a myth, and the great advantage of myths is that they are ladies with portable roots.
Anais NinAmerica hates the artist. It will not admit: the artist is my soul and I want to kill off my soul.
Anais Nin