Anaïs Nin, from Nearer the Moon: The Previously Unpublished Unexpurgated Diary, 1937-1939
When people dislike the colder seasons it’s something I truly don’t understand. What’s not to love about being rugged up so tight even your soul is warm. What’s not to love about misty mornings, damp forests, moss and mushrooms - like you’re living a fairytale. Candles, wood fire, cinnamon, steamy soup, hot chocolate. What’s not to love about fresh rainy days, that pitter patter on your roof. I’m never happier than I am in the cold seasons, summer just isn’t my type.
