I love your silences, they are like mine.

I know why families were created with all their imperfections. They humanize you. They are made to make you forget yourself occasionally, so that the beautiful balance of life is not destroyed.

Our psychological reality, which lies below the surface, frightens us because it endlessly surprises us and drives us in a direction which society's rules and organizations define as wrong or dangerous.

Our life is composed greatly from dreams, from the unconscious, and they must be brought into connection with action. They must be woven together.

I will not adjust myself to the world. I am adjusted to myself.

Houses turn to corpses overnight when we cease to live and love in them.

I find that life, day by day, is composed of at least one joy, one problem and one sorrow. Then there are the smaller ingredients: you always learn something, whether useful or harmful - that is difficult to analyze until later; you always give something; you alwayou always grow a little in one direction or another.