Stories are the only enchantment possible, for when we begin to see our suffering as a story, we are saved.

She lacks confidence, she craves admiration insatiably. She lives on the reflections of herself in the eyes of others. She does not dare to be herself.

There are very few human beings who receive the truth, complete and staggering, by instant illumination. Most of them acquire it fragment by fragment, on a small scale, by successive developments, cellularly, like a laborious mosaic.

Had I not created my whole world, I would certainly have died in other people’s.

If you are terribly truthful, the ground will always move from under you, and you will have to shift with the constantly shifting truth.

They courted the face on the screen, the face of translucence, the face of wax on which men found it possible to imprint the image of their fantasy.

The personal, if it is deep enough, becomes universal, mythical, symbolic.