Men must live and create. Live to the point of tears.

She was wearing a pair of my pajamas with the sleeves rolled up. When she laughed I wanted her again. A minute later she asked me if I loved her. I told her it didn't mean anything but that I didn't think so. She looked sad. But as we were fixing lunch, and for no apparent reason, she laughed in such a way that I kissed her.

Art and revolt will die only with the last man.

My great idea is that we must forgive the Pope. First of all, he needs it more than anyone else. Besides, it is the only way of placing oneself above him.

In our society, any man who doesn't cry at his mother's funeral is liable to be condemned to death.

To abandon oneself to principles is really to die - and to die for an impossible love which is the contrary of love.

My life was lucky so that I met, I loved (and disappointed) only outstanding people.