terça-feira, 30 de novembro de 2010

Henry, today I am sad for the moments I am missing, those moments when you talk to Fred until dawn, when you are eloquent or briliant or violent or exaltant. And I was sad that you missed a wonderfull moment in me.

Henry and June from a Journal of love. The unexpurgated diary (1931-1932) of Anaïs Nin

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