PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.



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We are like sculptors, constantly carving out of others

the image we long for, need, love or desire, often against reality, against their benefit, and always, in the end, a disappointment, because it does not fit them.



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



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Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through. Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death.



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



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



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The final lesson a writer learns is that everything can nourish the writer. The dictionary, a new word, a voyage, an encounter, a talk on the street, a book, a phrase learned.



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Dreams have helped me to live.



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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 witherings, of tarnishings.



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the truly faithless one is the one who makes love to only a fraction of you. And denies the rest.



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Don't let one cloud obliterate the whole sky.



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Truth is something which can't be told in a few words.



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Do not seek the because - in love there is no because, no reason, no explanation, no solutions.



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



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



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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.



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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, or a new country.



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"With you one goes so far away from reality that it is almost necessary to buy a return ticket. I am afraid never to come back here."



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By Anais Nin (1903 - 1977)

US (French-born) author & diarist