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Ordinary life does not interest me. I seek only the high moments. I am in accord with the surrealists, searching for the marvelous. I want to be a writer who reminds others that these moments exist; I want to prove that there is infinite space, infinite meaning, infinite dimension.
I am aware of being in a beautiful prison, from which I can only escape by writing.
Nada Badra liked this
well-appointed laboratory of the soul—myself, my home, my life—in which none of the
Nada Badra liked this
Films are like a dose of opium, then as you come out in the street it’s a shock, and you are brutally awakened from your dream.
Henry
about henry miller
But all the time her eyes are carefully made-up, like the eyes on Egyptian frescoes.
“I would not be concerned with the secrets, the lies, the mysteries, the facts. I would be concerned with what makes them necessary. What fear.”
say to her, “You’re the only woman who ever answered the fantasies I had about what a woman should be.”
sahar
“I resent men who are afraid of women’s strength.”
from her treating every encounter as either intimate, or to be forgotten.
am incapable of destruction.
If a person continues to see only giants, it means he is still looking at the world through the eyes of a child.
“The living out in excess kills the imagination and the intensity,”
“I cannot express tenderness,” mused Henry. “Only extravagance. Only passion and energy.” Henry says, “It is quite clear, of course, that I am a failure.”
If what Proust says is true, that happiness is the absence of fever, then I will never know happiness. For I am possessed by a fever for knowledge, experience, and creation.
I palliate the sufferings of others. Yes, I see myself always softening blows, dissolving acids, neutralizing poisons, every moment of the day. I try to fulfill the wishes of others, to perform miracles. I exert myself on performing miracles (Henry will write his book, Henry will not starve, June will be cured, etc.).
we all fall in this trap
Anaïs: “I feel that you have taken away from me the little confidence I did have. I feel humiliated to have confessed to you. I have rarely confessed.”
Dr. Allendy: “Why do you never confess? You have told me that you are reserved, that in most relationships it is you who receive confidences. People confess their fears and doubts to you. But you rarely do. Why? Are you afraid to be less loved?”
Anaïs: “Yes. Quite definitely. I keep a kind of shell around me, because I want to be loved. If I exposed the real Anaïs, I might not be loved.”
like me
Because writing, for me, is an expanded world, a limitless world, containing all.
