The period without the diary remains an ordeal. Every evening I want my diary as one wants opium.
In music I feel most deeply the passing of things.
There is a fissure in my vision and madness will always rush through.
I seek the real stuff of life. Profound drama.
She walked in the shadow of Rango with a great feeling of being taken out of herself, of having no knowledge of what was happening to her, merely a pervading sense of flow.
[On Paris:] A city never entirely known, yet which gives you the feeling of intimacy, of possessing it intimately.