Y.A.: Et après la mort, qu'est-ce qui reste? M.D.: Rien. Que les vivents qui se sourient, qui se souviennent.

Each time I told my story, I lost a bit, the smallest drop of pain. It was that day that I knew I wanted to tell the story of my family. Because horror on Earth is real and it is every day. It is like a flower or like the sun; it cannot be contained.

A tiny flare of love makes you more alluring

Were there a Christian so faithful to his God as I was to her we would all be Jesus Christ today.

Written By Henry Miller

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