ladders to fire

"away from him she could always say: he does not feel. but as soon as he appeared she was baffled. his presence carried such a physical glow that it passed for warmth. his voice was warm like the voice of feeling. his gestures were warm, his hands liked touch. he laid his hands often on human beings, and one might think it was love. but it was just physical warmth, like the summer. it gave off heat like a chemical, but no more."

"he will die of hardness, and i from feeling too much. even when people knock on the door i have a feeling they are not knocking on wood but on my heart. all the blows fall directly on my heart.

even pleasure had its little stabs upon the heart. the perpetual heart-murmur of the sensibilities.

i wish i could learn his secret. i would love to be able to go out for a whole night without feeling all the threads that bind me to him."

"but he knew nothing of her; he was no companion to her sadness. he could never imagine anyone else's mood, only his own. his own were so immense and loud, they filled his world and deafened him to all others. he was not concerned to know whether she could live or breathe within the dark caverns of his whale-like being, within the whale belly of his ego.

somehow he had convinced her that his expansiveness was a sign of bigness. a big man could not belong to one person."

"she knew as he did, that none of the decorations or dignities conferred upon a man or woman could alter the basic talent or lack of talent as a lover. no title of architect emeritus will confer upon them the magic knowledge of the body's structure. no prestidigitation with words will replace the knowledge of the secret places or responsiveness. no medals for courage will confer the graceful audacities, the conquering abductions, the exact knowledge of the battle of love, when the moment for seduction, when for consolidation, when for capitulation. the trade, art and craft that cannot be learned, which requires a divination of the fingertips, the accurate reading of signals from the fluttering of an eyelid, an eye like a microscope to catch the approval of an eyelash, a seismograph to catch the vibrations of the little blue nerves under the skin, the capacity to prognosticate from the direction of the down as from the inclination of the leaves some can predict rain, tell where storms are brooding, where floods are threatening, tell which regions to leave alone, which to invade, which to lull and which to take by force."

-all quotes from ladders to fire by anais nin