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

I sleep with my feet on moss carpets, my branches in the cotton of the clouds.

I was stirred only like a leaf in the wind, that is all. . .

Travel is seeking the lost paradise. It is the supreme illusion of love.

Tropical nights are hammocks for lovers.

You don't find love, it finds you. It's got a little bit to do with destiny, fate, and what's written in the stars.

When one is pretending the entire body revolts.