May 16, 2012 • 28 notes • tamburina
Anaïs, I don’t know how to tell you what I feel. I live in perpetual expectancy. You come and the time slips away in a dream. It is only when you go that I realize completely your presence. And then it is too late. You numb me. […] This is a little drunken, Anaïs. I am saying to myself “here is the first woman with whom I can be absolutely sincere.” I remember your saying - “you could fool me, I wouldn’t know it.” When I walk along the boulevards and think of that. I can’t fool you - and yet I would like to. I mean that I can never be absolutely loyal - it’s not in me. I love women, or life, too much - which it is, I don’t know. But laugh, Anaïs, I love to hear you laugh. You are the only woman who has a sense of gaiety, a wise tolerance - no more, you seem to urge me to betray you. I love you for that. […] I don’t know what to expect of you, but it is something in the way of a miracle. I am going to demand everything of you - even the impossible, because you encourage it. You are really strong. I even like your deceit, your treachery. It seems aristocratic to me.
Henry Miller, in a love letter to Anaïs Nin (via deardresden)

(via deardresden)

May 16, 2012 • 6 notes • halleycommet
henry miller: all right, i’ll tell you. june appeared like an angel, and i offered her a fool’s faith. she was a taxi dancer. i paid my dime, she put her head on my shoulder, but then the lies began. she told me her mother was a gypsy and her father was a count. later, i saw a film and realized she swiped her whole childhood right out of the film.
anais nin: and so?
henry miller: so i married her.
Henry And June. (via halleycommet)
May 13, 2012

The real question is: how did "they" know what it was...

Them: Is that a Heroin Stamp as your cover photo?
Me: Maybe
Them: I don't know if that's cool or just weird.
Me: Maybe
Them: You're strange sometimes.
Me: Definitely
October 19, 2011 • 19 notes
A new world is not made simply by trying to forget the old. A new world is made with a new spirit, with new values. Our world may have begun that way, but to-day it is caricatural. Our world is a world of things. It is made up of comforts and luxuries, or else the desire for them. What we dread most, in facing the impending debacle, is that we shall be obliged to give up our gew-gaws, our gadgets, all the little comforts which have made us so uncomfortable. There is nothing brave, chivalrous, heroic, or magnanimous about our attitude. We are not peaceful souls; we are smug, timid, queasy, and quaky.
Henry Miller
October 18, 2011 • 23 notes
The artist is the opposite of the politically minded individual, the opposite of the reformer, the opposite of the idealist. The artist does not tinker with the universe, he recreates it out of his own experience and understanding of life.
Henry Miller
October 6, 2011 • 1 note
The enemy of man is not germs but man himself, his pride, his prejudices, his stupidity, his arrogance. No class is immune, no system holds a panacea. Each one individually must revolt against a way of life which is not his own…It is not enough to overthrow governments, masters, tyrants: one must overthrow his own preconceived ideas of right and wrong, good and bad, just and unjust.
Henry Miller