"If unity is impossible to the writer, who is a sea of spiritual protoplasm, capable of flowing in all directions, of engulfing every object in its path, of trickling in every crevice, of filling every hole, at least truth is possible in the confession of our insincerities. But at times, what my mind engenders fictionally I enrich with true feeling and I am taken in, in good faith, by my own inventions.
Henry said I had broken him down with my talk of 'destinée intérieure', as if I were working on him the emotional cycle of analysis: confidence, understanding, love, strength, independence. My talk about sincerity, the joys of repose in complete confidence, the human relief of depending on another; all this upset him, hit the mark. I talked emotionally about the flow of confidence developed in analysis such as one cannot have even with the loved one. How the analysis taps hidden and secret sources. How the aim of analysis resembles the old Chinese definition of wisdom: wisdom being the destruction of idealism. The basis of insincerity is the idealized image we hold of ourselves and wish to impose on others—an admirable image. When this is broken down by the analyst's discoveries, it is a relief because this image is always a great strain to live up to. Some consider the loss of it a cause for suicide."
-- The Diary of AnThe Diary of Anaïs Ninaïs Nin, vol. 1