Creation which cannot express itself becomes madness.

... and the very folds of the curtains contained secrets and sighs.

If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don't write, because our culture has no use for it.

All unlived emotions turn to inanity.

If what Proust says is true, that happiness is the absence of fever, then I will never know happiness. For I am possessed by a fever for knowledge, experience, and creation.

The bed must be a beautiful place, not only because you make love there but because you dream there as well.

Our love lives because I live.