"At sixteen, I was part of a religious brotherhood. It was called Notre Dame of the misericord. I remember a day in March when I spent all day on a pavement. In exchange for a postcard, I had to gather money to buy flowers for the virgin. I remember a three year old boy looking at me and asking his father “what's that man doing?”, and the father, talking about me, replied that someone had told me a story that had fuzzled my brain."