You cannot save people. You can only love them.

Ordinary life does not interest me.

Memory is a great betrayer.

I want to live darkly and richly in my femaleness.

I am a winged creature who is too rarely allowed to use its wings. Ecstasies do not occur often enough.

I will always be the virgin-prostitute, the perverse angel, the two-faced sinister and saintly woman.

The source of sexual power is curiosity, passion. You are watching its little flame die of asphyxiation. Sex does not thrive on monotony. Without feeling, inventions, moods, no surprises in bed. Sex must be mixed with tears, laughter, words, promises, scenes, jealousy, envy, all of the spices of fear, foreign travel, new faces, novels, stories, dreams, fantasies, music, dancing, opium, wine.