Men like women who write. Even though they don't say so. A writer is a foreign country. — Marguerite Duras Copy Share Image
In homosexual love the passion is homosexuality itself. What a homosexual loves, as if it were his lover, his country, his art,… — Marguerite Duras Copy Share Image
Alcohol doesn't console, it doesn't fill up anyone's psychological gaps, all it replaces is the lack of God. It doesn't comfort man. On the… — Marguerite Duras Copy Share Image
I know it's not clothes that make women beautiful or otherwise, nor beauty care, nor expensive creams, nor the distinction of costliness of their… — Marguerite Duras Copy Share Image
“And modern houses don't have passages, either, for children to play and run about in, and for dogs, umbrellas, coats and satchels. And don't… — Marguerite Duras Copy Share Image
When a woman drinks it's as if an animal were drinking, or a child. Alcoholism is scandalous in a woman, and a female alcoholic… — Marguerite Duras Copy Share Image
Some people are like that - closed - they can't learn from anyone. Us, for example, we can't learn anything, neither I from you… — Marguerite Duras Copy Share Image
I often think of the image only I can see now, and of which I’ve never spoken. It’s always there, in the same silence,… — Marguerite Duras Copy Share Image
In love there are no vacations. No such thing. Love has to be lived fully with its boredom and all that. — Marguerite Duras Copy Share Image
“she can remember everyone admiring a rare kind of evening they spoke of as something they ought to save from oblivion to describe to… — Marguerite Duras Copy Share Image
All that remains of that minute is time in all its purity, bone-white time. — Marguerite Duras Copy Share Image
“Paradoxically, the freedom of Paris is associated with a persistent belief that nothing ever changes. Paris, they say, is the city that changes least.… — Marguerite Duras Copy Share Image
“─ No le conozco a usted. Nadie puede conocerle, ponerse en su lugar, usted no tiene lugar, no sabe dónde encontrar un lugar. Por… — Marguerite Duras Copy Share Image
