« Sitting at his secretary, Adrien extracts a blank sheet from his drawer and begins to write: "My dear Rose. Don't be unhappy. I know it will be painful tomorrow morning to find myself..." He pauses. His pen repeatedly pats his chin stung with a three-day beard. The same smile as before, a smile that seems to make fun of itself, comes back on his lips. "To find me how? He wonders... Dead." And yes, it will be a tough test. But not for me, he thinks, astonished. A great calm inhabits it. He is no longer afraid of anything. He waits for death as a tired man would wait for a good night's sleep. How can we justify this act, which he considers both courageous and cowardly? To spare his loved ones, he could have had a banal road accident, a stroke of fatigue at the wheel quickly arrived, but his cast and crutch do not allow him to do things otherwise. And no doubt he is too afraid, too, to delay his decision. »

« "The wounds of life can crush and lock us. They can also make us stronger and more open to others. We have not chosen to suffer them, but we are free to make them anvils that drive us or points of support that elevate us. It is one of the great mysteries of the human soul. »

« "Where is your treasure, there too will be your heart." Matthew, 6, 21 »