Love is worth whatever it costs.

I've often found myself preferring second-rate people to supposedly superior people, simply and solely because of their uncontrollable tendency to bang themselves against the sides of life's vast lampshade like fireflies or moths.

I feel sorry for men. They have more problems than women, because they now have to compete with women.

I like men to behave like men. I like them strong and childish.

Love is worth whatever it costs.

I have loved to the point of madness; That which is called madness, That which to me, Is the only sensible way to love.

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.