Living is abnormal.

I believe that in the history of art and of thought there has always been at every living moment of culture a 'will to renewal'. This is not the prerogative of the last decade only. All history is nothing but a succession of 'crises', of rupture, re

The light of memory, or rather the light that memory lends to things, is the palest light of all. I am not quite sure whether I am dreaming or remembering, whether I have lived my life or dreamed it. Just as dreams do, memory makes me profoundly awar

Politics separate men by bringing them together only superficially. Art and culture unite us in a common anguish that is our only possible fraternity, that of our existential and metaphysical community.

I was born near Bucharest, but my parents came to France a year later. We moved back to Romania when I was thirteen, and my world was shattered. I hated Bucharest, its society, and its mores - its anti-Semitism for example.

Ideologies separate us. Dreams and anguish bring us together.