"Our stolen childhood falls from his chimney, and it touches us to death...Harry, old pal, are you sleeping? Do you hear me? Enough dreaming. In the middle of the road, Harry blows out his lamp. The electric globes go out. Others smoke a last cigarette, dreading a guillotine that is less cold. Where are we?"
from the great article by Paul Gilson translated by Noah Teichner ↑