“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.”
More from Anaïs Nin
“Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it…”
“I want to be able to trust, not live in perpetual self-defense.”
“She believed that certain illusions are life-giving.”
“I want to love you wildly. I don't want words, but inarticulate cries, meaningless, from…”