“We don’t have a language for the senses. Feelings are images, sensations are like musical sounds.”

Compassion for our parents is the true sign of maturity.

I believe the lasting revolution comes from deep changes in ourselves which influence our collective life.

When we blindly adopt a religion, a political system, a literary dogma, we become automatons. We cease to grow.

Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through. Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death.

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

I want to do things so wild with you that I don’t know how to say them.

Each contact with a human being is so rare, so precious, one should preserve it.

I love the abstract, delicate, profound, vague, voluptuously wordless sensation of living ecstatically.

Dreams are necessary to life.

Experience teaches acceptance of the imperfect as life.

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.

I am lonely, yet not everybody will do. I don’t know why, some people fill the gaps and others emphasize my loneliness. In reality those who satisfy me are those who simply allow me to live with my ”idea of them.

Good things happen to those who hustle.

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 naïve or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman.

Violence is a symptom of impotence.

You have a right to experiment with your life. You will make mistakes. And they are right too.

As for me, I am tormented with an everlasting itch for things remote. I love to sail forbidden seas, and land on barbarous coasts.

I’m not sure what the future holds but I do know that I’m going to be positive and not wake up feeling desperate. As my dad said ‘Nic, it is what it is, it’s not what it should have been, not what it could have been, it is what it is.’

I always feel the movement is a sort of mosaic. Each of us puts in one little stone, and then you get a great mosaic at the end.

Without you, dearest dearest I couldn’t see or hear or feel or think – or live – I love you so and I’m never in all our lives going to let us be apart another night.

I’m my age and I feel glorious.

And only weaklings who lack courage and the power to feel they’re right when the whole world says they’re wrong, ever lose.

I often feel, and ever more deeply I realize, that fate and character are the same conception.

One should, when overwhelmed by the shadow of a giant, move aside and see if the colossal shadow isn’t merely that of a pygmy blocking out the sun.