Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Paris

Sometimes I wonder how it would be to live in a rooftop flat in the middle of Paris,to write my memoirs,  at a table in front of an open window, at night, listening to late night noises of the city  . . .
I wonder, is Paris quiet at night?


But Paris was a very old city and we were young and nothing was simple there, not even poverty, nor sudden money, nor the moonlight, nor right and wrong nor the breathing of someone who lay beside you in the moonlight.

Ernest Hemingway