June 6, 1916

[catelin]

So I dream about a tall, strong man with black hair, white teeth, a pale mysterious face, dark melancholy eyes, a dignified walk and a distant smile. Something like the Count of Monte Cristo. Above all, with a soft, clear voice. I would like him to tell me about his life, which will be very sad and full of terrible, frightening adventures. I would like him to be rather proud and haughty, fond of books, and able to write or play some kind of musical instrument. We would spend every evening at home, in front of the fire in winter, in the garden in summer, with a book or a pencil, his hand resting on mine! Isn't that the way husbands are?

If I ever should marry, I shall chose a man like that, and we shall write in this same diary together. Then my beloved diary will be the recipient of two great secrets and will have two hearts to watch over. It will know two signatures, A.N. and...I would like it to be a fantastic and unknown name like...like...I don't know. All the same, I shall think about it some more and look for a good name.

Anais Nin, from "Linotte"

Comments

[catelin.livejournal.com]

I love her too; although, I sometimes think reading too much of her at a tender age gave me a taste for grand passions in life not terribly suited to a semi-ordinary person like me. I suppose that may be the curse reading any great writer...one with which I would gladly saddle myself again and again. : )

[urbandelirium.livejournal.com]

Come now! It's those grand passions that send us on our way. (but likewise- I probably read her far too young...) Wait a minute, I am young. Nevermind.

Confuzzled and hyped on coffee,

Delirium