I miss the animal buoyancy of New York, the animal vitality. I did not mind that it had no meaning and no depth.

The poet is one who is able to keep the fresh vision of the child alive.

It is in the movements of emotional crisis that human beings reveal themselves most accurately.

She lacks confidence, she craves admiration insatiably. She lives on the reflections of herself in the eyes of others. She does not dare to be herself.

..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.

My life is not possible to tell. I change every day, change my patterns, my concepts, my interpretations. I am a series of moods and sensations. I play a thousand roles. I weep when I find others play them for me. My real self is unknown. My work is merely an essence of this vast and deep adventure.

The ivory tower of the artist may be the only stronghold left for human values, cultural treasures, man’s cult of beauty.