I am apparently gentle, unstable, and full of pretenses. I will die a poet killed by the nonpoets, will renounce no dream, resign myself to no ugliness, accept nothing of the world but the one I made myself. I wrote, lived, loved like Don Quixote, and on the day of my death I will say: ‘Excuse me, it was all a dream,’ and by that time I may have found one who will say: ‘Not at all, it was true, absolutely true.’

she acquired the certainty of the expansion of time by depth of emotion, range and infinite multiplicity of experience.

You can either give negativity power over your life or you can choose happiness instead.

The personal, if it is deep enough, becomes universal, mythical, symbolic.

No one should be forced to carry the unfulfilled self of another.

Throw your dreams into space like a kite, and you do not know what it will bring back, a new life, a new friend, a new love, a new country.

Paris-New York, the two high tension magnetic poles between life, life of the senses, of the spirit in Paris, and life in action in New York.