When I stand at the top of the Champs-Elysées, with its chestnut trees in flower, its undulations of shining cars, its white spaciousness, I feel as if I were biting into a utopian fruit, something velvety and lustrous and rich and vivid.

Living never wore one out so much as the effort not to live.

We don't have a language for the senses. Feelings are images, sensations are like musical sounds.

Life is a full circle, widening until it joins the circle motions of the infinite.

Women always think that when they have my shoes, my dress, my hairdresser, my makeup, it will all work the same way. They do not conceive of the witchcraft that is needed. They do not know that I am not beautiful but that I only appear to be at certain moments.

I don’t really want to become normal, average, standard. I want merely to gain in strength, in the courage to live out my life more fully, enjoy more, experience more. I want to develop even more original and more unconventional traits

I have this weird obsession about buying books and looking at them with a smile, even if I won't read them soon. At least they are mine now.