Throw your dreams into space like a kite, and you do not know what it will bring back, a new life, a new friend, a new love, a new country.

Comments and Image

Reality doesn't impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another. No more walls.

Comments and Image

We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations.

Comments and Image

Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage.

Comments and Image

How wrong is it for a woman to expect the man to build the world she wants, rather than to create it herself?

Comments and Image

Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.

Comments and Image

We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.

Comments and Image

I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me na�ve or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman.

Comments and Image

Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.

Comments and Image

We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are.

Comments and Image