an evocation of the fairy tale

“What I sought in clothes was an evocation of the fairy tale. In New
York, in winter, posing for a painter, I once arrived at nine in the
morning in a vivid red velvet dress.”

—Anais Nin, The Diary of Anais Nin, Volume One, 1931-1934, 1966.

Spanish dresses

“The merry-go-round turned and sang, and I imagined myself embarking on
a dancing career with Miralles, dancing, which was so much like flying,
from city to city, receiving bouquets, praise in newspapers, with
joyous music at the center always, pleasure as colorful as the Spanish
dresses, all red, orange, black and gold, gold and purple, and red and
white.”

—Anais Nin, The Diary of Anais Nin, Volume One, 1931-1934, 1966.

The light and the sky in the body

“A blue sky and the sun on the wall. The nurse had raised me to see the
new day. I lay there, feeling the sky, and myself one with the sky,
feeling the sun and myself one with the sun, and abandoning myself to
the immensity and to God. God penetrated my whole body. I trembled and
shivered with an immense joy. Cold, and fever and light, an
illumination, a visitation, through the whole body, the shiver of a
presence. The light and the sky in the body, God in the body and I
melting into God. I melted into God. No image, I felt space, gold,
purity, ecstasy, immensity, a profound ineluctable communion. I wept
with joy.”

—Anais Nin, The Diary of Anais Nin, Volume One, 1931-1934, 1966.

We talked about the colors we love

“She says, staring intently, ‘I thought your eyes were blue at first.
They are strange and beautiful, grey and gold, with those long black
lashes. You are the most graceful woman I have ever seen. You glide
when you walk.’
    We talked about the colors we love. She always wears black and purple. I love warm colors, red and gold.”

—Anais Nin, The Diary of Anais Nin, Volume One, 1931-1934, 1966.

Violet rugs and stained-glass windows

“Russian voices and June’s incandescent face. Violet rugs and
stained-glass windows, dusty lights and the plaintive chant of strings.
June is the essence of all these, of candles, incense, flambées, fine
liqueurs, exotic foods.”

—Anais Nin, The Diary of Anais Nin, Volume One, 1931-1934, 1966.

grey for work at the typewriter

“I pass through the house, painting a wall through which stains of
humidity show, hanging a lamp where it will throw Balinese shadow
plays, draping a bed, placing logs in the fireplace.
    Every room is painted a different color. As if there
were one room for every separate mood: lacquer red for vehemence, pale
turquoise for reveries, peach color for gentleness, green for repose,
grey for work at the typewriter.”

—Anais Nin, The Diary of Anais Nin, Volume One, 1931-1934, 1966.

one hundred accents

“We corresponded. He sent books, and tried to teach me French by
letters. I was not very disciplined. In one letter I wrote two pages
without accents and then added one hundred accents at the bottom and
said: ‘For you to distribute correctly.’”

—Anais Nin, The Diary of Anais Nin, Volume One, 1931-1934, 1966.

a tremendously important part of a well-designed layout

bluebottle tennis

“When we got to our room, I sat down on Ruth’s bed, close to the
window—the sun had warmed the blanket—and she sat on mine over by the
back wall. There was a bluebottle buzzing around, and for a minute we
had a laugh playing ‘bluebottle tennis,’ throwing our hands about to
make the demented creature go from one to the other of us. Then it
found its way out of the window, and Ruth said:
    ‘I want me and Tommy to get back together again. Kathy, will you help?’ Then she asked: ‘What’s the matter?’”

—Kazuo Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go, 2005.

The snow was gray

“The snow was gray against the sky, soft on his lashes. It fell without a sound.”

—Cormac McCarthy, Child of God, 1973.