I see her as a series of marvellous shapes formed at random in the kaleidoscope of desire.

In a world where women are commodities, a woman who refuses to sell herself will have the thing she refuses to sell taken away from her by force

Stars on our door, stars in our eyes, stars exploding in the bits of our brains where the common sense should have been

To pin your hopes upon the future is to consign those hopes to a hypothesis, which is to say, a nothingness. Here and now is what we must contend with.

The clown may be the source of mirth, but - who shall make the clown laugh?

There is a striking resemblance between the act of love and the ministrations of a torturer.

Home is where the heart is and hence a movable feast.