Please — Consider Me A Dream.

We Photograph Things In Order To Drive Them Out Of Our Minds. My Stories Are A Way Of Shutting My Eyes.

I’m Doing Badly, I’m Doing Well; Whichever You Prefer.

I No Longer Know If I Wish To Drown Myself In Love, Vodka Or The Sea.

People Keep Themselves At A Tolerable Height Above An Infernal Abyss Toward Which They Gravitate Only By Putting Out All Their Strength And Lovingly Helping One Another. They Are Tied Together By Ropes, And It's Bad Enough When The Ropes Around An Individual Loosen And He Drops Somewhat Lower Than The Others Into Empty Space; Ghastly When The Ropes Break And He Falls. That's Why We Should Cling To The Others.

Love Has As Few Problems As A Motor Car. The Only Problems Are The Driver, The Passengers, And The Road.