Throw your dreams into space like a kite, and you do not know what it will bring back, a new life, a new friend, a new love, a new country.
At sixteen, Sabina took moon baths, first of all, because everyone else took sun baths, and second, she admitted, because she had been told it was dangerous.
Nowhere is inhumanity more revealed than in hospitals.
Stations and airports are rehearsals for separations by death.
I want to live darkly and richly in my femaleness. I want a man lying over me, always over me. His will, his pleasure, his desire, his life, his work, his sexuality the touchstone, the command, my pivot. I don’t mind working, holding my ground intellectually, artistically; but as a woman, oh, God, as a woman I want to be dominated
I can’t let you go now. I want to go places with you; obscure little places, just to be able to say: here I came with her.
Ordinary life does not interest me.
The one who travels like a lover searching for a new passion is suddenly blessed with new eyes, new ears, new senses.
In chaos, there is fertility.
Good things happen to those who hustle.
Dreams are necessary to life.
Had I not created my whole world, I would certainly have died in other people’s.
... America is the greatest humiliator in existence. It is always cultivating the power you get from humiliating others.
Jazz is the music of the body.
When I am most deeply rooted, I feel the wildest desire to uproot myself.
The two men who have done the greatest harm to the world are Christ and Columbus. Christ taught us guilt and sacrifice, to live only in the other world, and Columbus discovered America and materialism.
Everything with me is either worship and passion or pity and understanding. I hate rarely, though when I hate. I hate murderously.
The theme of the diary is always the personal, but it does not mean only a personal story: it means a personal relationship to all things and people. The personal, if it is deep enough, becomes universal, mythical, symbolic; I never generalize, intellectualise. I see, I hear, I feel. These are my primitive elements of discovery. Music, dance, poetry and painting are the channels for emotion. It is through them that experience penetrates our bloodstream.
The enemy of a love is never outside, it's not a man or woman, it's what we lack in ourselves.
Art is the method of levitation, in order to separate one's self from enslavement by the earth.
We are like sculptors, constantly carving out of others the image we long for, need, love or desire, often against reality, against their benefit, and always, in the end, a disappointment, because it does not fit them.
She lacks confidence, she craves admiration insatiably. She lives on the reflections of herself in the eyes of others. She does not dare to be herself.
Life is a full circle, widening until it joins the circle motions of the infinite.
myself ... is merely an instrument to connect life and a myth
Creation which cannot express itself becomes madness.
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