If one's conscious life is too rigid, too regimented, then the surface may crack at times, and we are unprepared for the strange emotions or sensations we experience.

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

Writers do not live one life, they live two. There is the living and then there is the writing. There is the second tasting, the delayed reaction.

Hollywood is a mirage factory.

Is devotion to others a cover for the hungers and the needs of the self, of which one is ashamed? I was always ashamed to take. So I gave. It was not virtue. It was a disguise.

There is a fissure in my vision and madness will always rush through.

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