We don't see things as they are, we see them as we ... believe me naïve or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman.

..he made me understand something very important. Whether because I am a Latin, or because I am a neurotic, I have a need of gestures. I am myself expressive, demonstrative; every feeling I have takes on expression: words, gestures, signs, letters, articulateness or action. I need this in others.

One may gain one truth at the expense of another.

Everything with me is either worship and passion or pity and understanding. I hate rarely, though when I hate. I hate murderously.

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.

Truth is something which can't be told in a few words. Those who simplify the universe only reduce the expansion of its meaning.

I had been struck by the analogy between neurosis and romanticism. Romanticism was truly a parallel to neurosis. It demanded of reality an illusory world, love, an absolute which it could never obtain, and thus destroyed itself by the dream.