Yves Saint Laurent hated fashion. He loved style.

Love is what makes me live, quite simply. It's the only thing that makes me work. It made me become what I am today.

I won't make a mark on history. I have some importance in the time we live in, but that's all.

Chanel liberated women: Saint Laurent gave them power.

There's nothing that really motivates me anymore and demands that I get up in the morning. In the past it was Yves Saint Laurent.

I hate nostalgia. Today is always better than yesterday.

I am faithful up to the point of death. It's the only thing I respect. I never abandon anyone. I'm not talking about sexual relations. I'm faithful in my friendship, my admiration.

A collection is like a dinner party. It is made up of the people you invite, but also the people you don't.

On my own account I certainly wouldn't have become the director of a couture house. I didn't have sufficient admiration for fashion as such to have done so.

Loving dogs is a question of anthropomorphism. We become attached to dogs because of the feelings we project on them.

When journalists come to interview me, it's a part of my life that is exhibited, as if pieces of clothing are being taken off one by one. But it's not very important really.

Reckon it's best if you don't have anyone you care about

There I find an Ark torn asunder and a Vicegerent over Yonder

I think togetherness is a very important ingredient to family life.

Every daring attempt to make a great change in existing conditions, every lofty vision of new possibilities for the human race, has been labeled Utopian.

This is the warfare of the future. America's dominance in this arena [cybersecurity] must be unquestioned.

I must live in my own excrement, breathe in my own poisonous sticky fumes. Yet I am a human being! I still am. Does no one think of that?

I have often lost myself in the sea, ears full of newly cut flowers, tongue full of love and agony.

Every gesture is a gesture from the blood, every expression a symbolic utterance... Everything is of the blood, of the senses.

Storms rumble beyond the horizon, and the fires of heaven purge the earth. There is no salvation without destruction, no hope this side of death.

You only get so many firsts, each one is a blessing.