I am leaving the town to the invaders: increasingly numerous, mediocre, dirty, badly behaved, shameless tourists.

Solitude scares me. It makes me think about love, death, and war. I need distraction from anxious, black thoughts.

Death was like love, a romantic escape.

I started out as a lousy actress and have remained one.

I can no longer walk. I can no longer swim. But I'm lucky when I see how animals suffer.

I would like, before I die, to see the changes I've always fought for being made. If not, my life will have been worth nothing.

There is a French proverb: To live happy, live hidden. Where can Brigitte Bardot hide?