The one who travels like a lover searching for a new passion is suddenly blessed with new eyes, new ears, new senses.

I do not want to be the leader. I refuse to be the leader. I want to live darkly.

Sometimes I think of Paris not as a city but as a home.

For too many centuries women have been being muses to artists. I wanted to be the muse, I wanted to be the wife of the artist, but I was really trying to avoid the final issue — that I had to do the job myself.

Where the myth fails, human love begins. Then we love a human being, not our dream, but a human being with flaws.

When I first met him, he did not care if a friend did not fit into his world, because at that time his world had not been born yet.

A man who lives unrelated to other human beings dies. But a man who lives unrelated to himself also dies.