“Never let anybody guess that you have a mind of your own. Above all be pure.”

The truth is, I often like women. I like their unconventionality. I like their completeness. I like their anonymity.

Just in case you ever foolishly forget; I’m never not thinking of you.

I am made and remade continually. Different people draw different words from me.

Each has his past shut in him like the leaves of a book known to him by heart and his friends can only read the title.

Anything may happen when womanhood has ceased to be a protected occupation.

I don’t believe in aging. I believe in forever altering one’s aspect to the sun.

Marvelous are the innocent.

Fear no more, says the heart.

She always had the feeling that it was very, very dangerous to live even one day.

But nothing is so strange when one is in love (and what was this except being in love?) as the complete indifference of other people.

I meant to write about death, only life came breaking in as usual.

And yet, the only exciting life is the imaginary one.

I need not hate any man; he cannot hurt me. I need not flatter any man; he has nothing to give me.

Better was it to go unknown and leave behind you an arch, then to burn like a meteor and leave no dust.

Arrange whatever pieces come your way.

Consolation for those moments when you can’t tell whether you’re the divinest genius or the greatest fool in the world.

We, humans, are so tortured by not properly guessing what will make us happy.

A man who loves you will never make you second guess his commitment.

Her stories always ended with three dots, sounding like an unfinished melody; she hoped he would guess the rest.

I guess living without love, without experiencing it or being able to give it is pretty strong punishment.

DNA have something to do with your hair not your nationality but guess what you can always maintain your hair.

I guess I’m just inspired to tell stories.

I guess the only time most people think about injustice is when it happens to them.

I guess passion keeps me going.