I had a feeling that Pandora's box contained the mysteries of woman's sensuality, so different from a man's and for which man's language was so inadequate. The language of sex had yet to be invented. The language of the senses was yet to be explored.

Beware of allowing a tactless word, a rebuttal, a rejection to obliterate the whole sky

Life is so fluid that one can only hope to capture the living moment, to capture it alive and fresh ... without destroying that moment.

Luxury is not a necessity to me, but beautiful and good things are.

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

With her eyes alone she could give this response, this absolutely erotic response, as if febrile waves were trembling there, pools of madness... something devouring that could lick a man all over like a flame, annihilate him, with a pleasure never known before.

My diary seems to keep me whole.