People living deeply have no fear of death.

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.

How well I know with what burning intensity you live. You have experienced many lives already, including several you have shared with me- full rich lives from birth to death, and you just have to have these rest periods in between.

I am not always just living, just following all my fantasies; I come up for air, for understanding.

What I cannot love, I overlook.

At five o'clock Paris always has a current of eroticism in the air.