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, A Literate Passion: Letters of Anaïs Nin And Henry Miller, 1932-1953 (via fette)
And then I’m going to leave you when shit gets a little crazy with World War II, that weird Gonzalez guy you started that press with in New York, and then your second husband. Though I was pretty much done by then.