He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

When someone between twenty and forty says, apropos of a work of art, 'I know what I like,' he is really saying 'I have no taste of my own but accept the taste of my cultural milieu.

Perhaps there is only one cardinal sin: impatience. Because of impatience we were driven out of Paradise, because of impatience we cannot return.

Our claim to our own bodies and our world is our catastrophe.

You must go to bed with friends or whores, where money makes up the difference in beauty or desire.

History is, strictly speaking, the study of questions; the study of answers belongs to anthropology and sociology.

There's always another story. There's more than meets the eye.