The Sahara was a spectacle as alive as the sea. The tints of the dunes changed according to the time of day and the angle of the light: golden as apricots from far off, when we drove close to them they turned to freshly made butter; behind us they grew pink; from sand to rock, the materials of which the desert was made varied as much as its tints.

Even if one is neither vain nor self-obsessed, it is so extraordinary to be oneself - exactly oneself and no one else - and so unique, that it seems natural that one should also be unique for someone else.

There is a kind of universality in the human condition, masculine or feminine. That's one thing I continue to believe.

At bottom, antipsychiatry is still psychiatry. And it doesn't really address itself to women's problems.

I think it's wrong to write in a totally esoteric language when you want to talk about things which interest a multitude of women.

from one minute to the next the present is merely an honorary past. It must be filled unceasingly anew to dissemble the curse it carries within itself; that is why Americans like speed, alcohol, thriller films and any sensational news: the demand for new things, and ever newer things, is feverish since nowhere will they rest.

To catch a husband is an art; to hold him is a job.