Some must cry so that others may be able to laugh the more heartily. Sacrifices are necessary.

It is strange how sad it can be - sunlight in the afternoon, don't you think?

The musty smell, the bugs, the lonliness, this room, which is part of the street outside-this is all I want from life.

There are always two deaths, the real one and the one people know about.

When you are a child you are yourself and you know and see everything prophetically. And then suddenly something happens and you stop being yourself; you become what others force you to be. You lose your wisdom and your soul.

I'm no use to anybody,' I say. 'I'm a cérébrale, can't you see that?' Thinking how funny a book would be, called 'Just a Cérébrale or You Can't Stop Me From Dreaming'. Only, of course, to be accepted as authentic, to carry any conviction, it would have to be written by a man. What a pity, what a pity!

No past to make us sentimental, no future to embarrass us...a difficult moment when you are out of practice - a moment that makes you go cold, cold and wary.