You dream of the evening and of what it will bring at twilight, it is the hour I love best and which always saddens me. You cease the day’s efforts, you recline, you bathe, you dress for some event. I love bridges best of all, planes, taxis, the diaries, the hour of dress, the in-between hours, the only moment when I exist alone.
The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Volume 5, 1947-1955