There were silences in my head. I could abandon myself completely to the pleasure of multiple relationships, to the beauty of the day, to the joys of the day. It was as if a cancer in me had ceased gnawing me. The cancer of introspection.

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

We don't have a language for the senses. Feelings are images, sensations are like musical sounds.

Each friend represents a world in us, a world not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.

I see enormous loves growing immense and finally crushing me.

To the woman with the least intelligence, there must come, at some time or other, the realization that housework is animal work and that there are other occupations in the world a thousand times more refined, more enriching, for which she is also suited and to which she has a right.

I believe one writes because one has to create a world in which one can live.