I walk ahead of myself in perpetual expectancy of miracles.

There were always in me, two women at least, one woman desperate and bewildered, who felt she was drowning and another who would leap into a scene, as upon a stage, conceal her true emotions because they were weaknesses, helplessness, despair, and present to the world only a smile, an eagerness, curiosity, enthusiasm, interest.

One always, sooner or later, comes upon a city which is an image of one's inner cities. Fez is an image of my inner self. ... The layers of the city of Fez are like the layers and secrecies of the inner life. One needs a guide. ... There were in Fez, as in my life, streets which led nowhere, impasses which remained a mystery.

The unknown was my compass. The unknown was my encyclopedia. The unnamed was my science and progress.

My trunk, valises and my mind are overpacked.

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.

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.