The happiness of people who are in love and who are loved shows in their faces. They have an expression that's at once very far away and very much part of the present.

I found myself both touched and irritated by the discovery that she was vulnerable.

For what are we looking for if not to please? I do not know if the desire to attract others comes from a superabundance of vitality, possessiveness, or the hidden, unspoken need to be reassured.

All my life, I will continue obstinately to write about love, solitude and passion among the kind of people I know. The rest don't interest me.

When you make a decision to write according to a set schedule and really stick to it, you find yourself writing very fast. At least I do.

My love of pleasure seems to be the only consistent side of my character. Is it because I have not read enough?

Looking for pleasure is the best way to ensure you won't find it.