Anais Nin, Mirages: The Unexpurgated Diary of Anais Nin, 1939-1947

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@classicbookaddict
Anais Nin, Mirages: The Unexpurgated Diary of Anais Nin, 1939-1947
Gabriela Mistral, tr. by Langston Hughes, from Selected Poems; “Quietness,”
“his dark woodland eyes.”
— Oscar Wilde, from A House of Pomegranates; The Young King.
About “Lady Chatterley’s lover”, by D.H. Lawrence
When I was fifteen and I started reading classics for fun, I found this book. I read some random chapters and I actually liked it, but the sex scenes scared me a bit (oh, those stupids prejudices I used to have!) so I had to put it down and wait until I felt ready to read it again. 8 years later I picked the book at a bookstore and decided to buy it and see how I can handle all what I couldn't back then. And it was sooooo disappointing...
The sex scenes weren't a problem, they actually were just a part of the book. But I don't know why this time I just didn't enjoyed any part of the book. It was almost torturing.
The writing was generally good, the characters were annoying most of the time (back then I used to liked Lady Chatterley and even Clifford, but now I just couldn't take them) and at some points the plot was so boring. I was half way through the book waiting to get caught by something (anything, whatever it was!) but I was almost finishing and all my expectations were on the floor. I even used to talk to my friend about how the characters were doing just to find cheer to keep reading (and after finishing the book I even called him to tell him how disappointed I was).
I only found interesting two characters: Sir Malcolm and Constance's lovers. One was the coolest dad (a dad like that in a time like that was the real deal) and the other was the coldest lover (dude, he was so into I-don't-care-you're-a-lady-I-just-wanna-have-sex-with-you-then-leave-cause-I-like-my-lonely-life).
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All you need is love, coffee and a great book.
Me: When you get older, you just never find the time to read books anymore.
Me: *finds time to read a 200k fanfiction in the span of two days.*
Una vida en el cine, Alberto Masferrer.
We loved with a love that was more than love.
Edgar Allan Poe
His dark eyes took me in, and I wondered what they would look like if he fell in love.
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Britomart by the Sea by Walter Crane, 1900
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