"(...) in the peace of this countryside, of this house that cherishes me, that I live in alone, in this March of 1947, after a long, long wait."

"It's the house which was waiting for me. I am living in this retreat, far from the bells of Palais-Royal. It gives me an example of the absurd magnificent stubbornness of the vegetable kingdom. I rearrange the memories of former countrysides where I used to dream of Paris, as later I used to dream in Paris of taking flight. The waters of the moat and the sunshine reflect on the walls of my room their false shimmering marbles. Everywhere spring is jubilant."

Jean Cocteau - La Difficulté d’être