Anxiety is love's greatest killer, because it is like the stranglehold of the drowning.

Not afraid of poverty and drabness and who is untouched by it, untouched by the drunkenness of her friends; (she) who judges, selects, discards people with severity, who knows, when she is telling her endless anecdotes, that they are ways of escape, keeping herself all the more secret behind that profuse talk.

I am quite wiling to confide entirely in human being, except that at some moment or another human beings get preoccupied, moody, busy, inattentive, and there come an end to the interest, and this never happens in a journal!

In chaos, there is fertility.

It's all right for a woman to be, above all, human. I am a woman first of all.

In my dreams I sleep with everybody.

Where the myth fails, human love begins. Then we love a human being, not our dream, but a human being with flaws.