In India and in New York the economy is naked. People are starving physically in India, and emotionally in New York.

Fashion is the pursuit of perfection, Style is the acceptance of one's flaws.

I repeatedly refuse to make any practical decisions. I get a feeling of nausea about practicality.

I first think of intelligence. You need it for surviving in Italy because Italy is so pompous.

We are not naturally intelligent, or happy. In fact, every day it is harder to remain intelligent. It seems often that people get intelligent through pain, but you can't be sure because nobody really can say, "I've been suffering".

Painting is like making love. You cannot ask, 'How do you do it?' But, hopefully, it is beautiful.

It is very scary to think mechanically about someone you know. That means that the second time you meet a person is useless. Which I tend to believe anyway.