I stopped loving my father a long time ago. What remained was the slavery to a pattern.

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.

Since desire always goes towards that which is our direct opposite, it forces us to love that which will make us suffer.

The suppression of inner patterns in favor of patterns created by society is dangerous to us.

"We see the world as 'we' are, not as 'it' is; because it is the "I" behind the 'eye' that does the seeing."

Life is truly known only to those who suffer, lose, endure adversity and stumble from defeat to defeat.

Ordinary life does not interest me. I seek only the high moments. I am in accord with the surrealists, searching for the marvelous.