A Quote by Anais Nin

I'm awaiting a lover. I have to be rent and pulled apart and live according to the demons and the imagination in me. I'm restless. Things are calling me away. My hair is being pulled by the stars again.
I’m restless. Things are calling me away. My hair is being pulled by the stars again.
I'm restless. Things are calling me away. My hair is being pulled by the stars again. ANAÏS NIN, Fire: From "A Journal of Love" The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1934-1938 For me, the adventures of the mind, each inflection of thought, each movement, nuance, growth, discovery, is a source of exhilaration.
In Manchester a girl pulled a lock of my hair out once. She hugged me and then tugged my head and just walked away hugging it.
I realized we'd pulled into a parking garage. We drove around two levels, pulled into a spot, then immediately pulled out again. Along with four other black Bentley SUVs. "What's going on?" I asked, as we headed back toward the exit with two Bentleys in front of us and two behind us. "Shell game," he said.
I see you, Ben. I always have. You're in my pack." He pulled away. "What if being packmates isn't enough for me?
I don't know what he has. A pulled groin. A hip flexor. I don't know. A pulled something. I never pulled anything. You can't pull fat.
I imagined the hard things that pulled us apart Will never again, sir, tear us from each other's hearts.
During this time we've been apart, it's you I've thought of when I'm at my weakest, and you who have pulled me through.
I ignored your aura but it grabbed me by the hand, like the moon pulled the tide, and the tide pulled the sand.
For instance, if you're a black guy and you got pulled over, and you didn't know that any other black men were being pulled over, you would constantly in the back of your head be thinking, "What did I do?" rather than, "I didn't do anything, these are just the conditions I live under."
In my eyes, there's heroes I look up to. People who saved me - my caretakers, people at Boston Medical Center. My surgeon. The people that pulled me off that ground, who pulled me out. Those are my heroes. The police. The paramedics. Those are the true heroes.
That Monaco crash was quite a big one - I pulled 33g when I hit the wall, which is a lot. It's a weird sensation - like all my skin and flesh was being pulled off my bones.
She pulled away. "That doesn't make any sense." "Neither does this," he said, "but I don't care. I'm sick of trying to pretend I can live without you. Don't you understand that? Can't you see it's killing me?
Before I could figure out how to apologize for being such an idiot, she tackled me with a hug, then pulled away just as quickly. "I'm glad you're not a guinea pig." "Me, too." I hoped my face wasn't as red as it felt.
Maybe the first time you saw her you were ten. She was standing in the sun scratching her legs. Or tracing letters in the dirt with a stick. Her hair was being pulled. Or she was pulling someone's hair. And a part of you was drawn to her, and a part of you resisted--wanting to ride off on your bicycle, kick a stone, remain uncomplicated. In the same breath you felt the strength of a man, and a self-pity that made you feel small and hurt. Part of you thought: Please don't look at me. If you don't, I can still turn away. And part of you thought: Look at me.
Where did you learn to kiss like that?” I said, a little breathless. He grinned and pulled me close again. “I said I was a virgin, not a monk,” he said, kissing me again. “If I find I need guidance, I’ll ask.
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