Letters to Sartre

“When I was leaving Paris on that fateful 10 June, I felt as though I were being wrenched away for the last time from yourself in the flesh… I’ve thought of you almost always as yourself, separated from me- but also, as the essential, undefined condition of my own life… My love, I’ll recover you, concretely- on a street corner, with your face, your smiles, your little body and your determined step.”