« A few hours ago, Joanna wrote these letters, thinking she would not be able to post them. She slipped them into her bag, but they are now like a revolver that we made the mistake of buying. We hide him in the bedside, but his presence gradually clutters up all the space, becomes an obsession, and, because he now demands that we use it, he ends up making us a murderer or a suicide. Joanna June could not bring herself to burn these three letters, and they demanded to be slipped into the box. »

« Now Lucie should negotiate with this other... neither is ready to set themselves on fire on the altar of this sacrosanct "balance" of the child gargled by child psychiatrists who know nothing about it. In maternal love, the darkest selfishness fights with rage the most sparkling generosity. »

« Every reality is a construction, and even a reconstruction. Our brain is sealed in the darkness and silence of the cranial box, and it has access to the world only through the sensors that are our eyes... Everything we see, feel, is transmitted to it by electrical cables, our synapses... And the brain reconstructs reality. Based on the number of synapses, the brain does ten billion operations per second. Much less than a computer, but with more interconnections. But in a few years, we will be able to simulate a human brain, and this program will come to a certain consciousness... »