Henry Miller

United States
26 Dec 1891 // 7 Jun 1980
Writer

How to Tell you what I Feel

Ana�s, I don't know how to tell you what I feel. I live in perpetual expectancy. You come and the time slips away in a dream. It is only when you go that I realize completely your presence. And then it is too late. You numb me.

(...) This is a little drunken, Ana�s. I am saying to myself "here is the first woman with whom I can be absolutely sincere." I remember your saying - "you could fool me, I wouldn't know it." When I walk along the boulevards and think of that. I can't fool you - and yet I would like to. I mean that I can never be absolutely loyal - it's not in me. I love women, or life, too much - which it is, I don't know. But laugh, Ana�s, I love to hear you laugh. You are the only woman who has a sense of gaiety, a wise tolerance - no more, you seem to urge me to betray you. I love you for that.

(...) 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, in 'A Literate Passion: Letters of Ana�s Nin & Henry Miller, 1932-1953'
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A Literate Passion: Letters of Ana�s Nin & Henry Miller, 1932-1953

Henry Miller

 

On Anger: "For every minute you remain angry, you give up sixty seconds of peace of mind."
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Human, All Too Human
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