Friday, 19 November 2010

anaïs nin

I read a really sad but beautiful quote from Anaïs Nin yesterday:

"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 withering, of tarnishing."

I don't know much about her other than she was born in France and wrote the preface to Tropic of Cancer.

Google her I guess.
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