I enter the world called real as one enters a mist.

A child's fear is a world whose dark corners are quite unknown to grownup people; it has its sky and its abysses, a sky without stars, abysses into which no light can ever penetrate.

What is real is beyond all reach.

I am probably exaggerating a little, but I owe my equilibrium to ink and paper.

The secret is to write just anything, to dare to write just anything, because when you write just anything, you begin to say what is important.

Sitting in the lap of the model you intend to paint never seemed to me to be the ideal location.