I wonder if all of the women who write and who read Anaïs Nin think they are just like her. I am underlining the pages of her diary so frantically I can hardly keep the sense of what I’m reading.
I had two solitary orgies today: a book orgy and a food orgy. I bought fifty dollars’ worth of each. Theater books; strawberries and rich, creamy cheese, French bread and a big bag of M&Ms.