The worth of a human being lies in the ability to extend oneself, to go outside oneself, to exist in and for other people.

I cannot hate them because nothing binds me to them; I have nothing in common with them.

You can understand nothing about art, particularly modern art, if you do not understand that imagination is a value in itself.

We don't know when our name came into being or how some distant ancestor acquired it. We don't understand our name at all, we don't know its history and yet we bear it with exalted fidelity, we merge with it, we like it, we are ridiculously proud of it as if we had thought it up ourselves in a moment of brilliant inspiration.

Every love relationship rests on an unwritten agreement unthinkingly concluded by the lovers in the first weeks of their love. They are still in a kind of dream but at the same time, without knowing it, are drawing up, like uncompromising lawyers, the detailed clauses of their contract. O lovers! Be careful in those dangerous first days! Once you've brought breakfast in bed you'll have to bring it forever, unless you want to be accused of lovelessness and betrayal.

Memory does not make films, it makes photographs.

Art arises from sources other than logic." (p.32)