He has, like me, a sense of smell. I let him inhale me, then I slip away.

Jazz is the music of the body.

The inner chambers of the soul are like the photographer's darkroom. Like a laboratory. One cannot stay there all the time or it becomes the solitary cell of the neurotic.

Eroticism is one of the basic means of self-knowledge, as indispensable as poetry.

The diary taught me that it is in the moments of emotional crisis that human beings reveal themselves most accurately. I learned to choose the heightened moments because they are the moments of revelation.

Warmth, perfume, rugs, soft lights, books. They do not appease me. I am aware of time passing, of all the world contains that I have not seen, of all the interesting people I have not met.

The bed must be a beautiful place, not only because you make love there but because you dream there as well.