I was familiar with the theatrical emotions that the horrors of politics inspire. (…) You’re heartbroken and upset and a little hysterical, or you’re gleeful and vindicated for the first time in ten years, and you’re only balm is to make theater of it.

The value of things is not the time they last, but the intensity with which they occur.

While it thunders and lightnings I lie on the bed and go through wild dreams. We’re in Seville and then in Fez and then in Capri and then in Havana. We’re journeying constantly, but there is always a machine and books, and your body is always close to me and the look in your eyes never changes. People are saying we will be miserable, we will regret, but we are happy, we are laughing always, we are singing (…) I say this is a wild dream – but it is this dream I want to realize (…) Being anchored always in no matter what storm, home wherever we are.