“
I love the night passionately. I love it as I love my country, or my mistress, with an instinctive, deep, and unshakeable love. I love it with all my senses: I love to see it, I love to breathe it in, I love to open my ears to its silence, I love my whole body to be caressed by its blackness. Skylarks sing in the sunshine, the blue sky, the warm air, in the fresh morning light. The owl flies by night, a dark shadow passing through the darkness; he hoots his sinister, quivering hoot, as though he
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”
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“
Paris is a place in which we can forget ourselves, reinvent, expunge the dead weight of our past.
”
― Detour de France: An Englishman in Search of a Continental Education
― Detour de France: An Englishman in Search of a Continental Education
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