I think that when love, true love, springs up between a man and a woman, it transforms them both, giving them certain magical qualities. Perhaps they don’t realise. Love comes to guide them, to lead them, and they both find themselves able to do things that would normally seem impossible. They live in a reality with more dimensions.

I’m going to end up sounding almost blasphemous, but again, once again, on reaching this point, I can only return to the same thing: in erotic love, in loving sex, in the tension of desire, in the projection of the energies of the man and the woman onto the creation of a new life, there, in that tension and those intimate circumstances, is where whatever they each have within them of God, which is usually hidden, makes its presence felt. Only God can give life, and this and nothing else is the purpose of sex.