Grass and Wind

"The grass bends and the wind passes," said Confucius. This is the human grass that does not escape any of the great breaths. Wind of ideas, it vibrates; wind of authority, it bends. But it wants to know the reasons for the wind and the means to face all winds. And he who today seeks for it is a committed man who refuses to resemble "a clean-shaven Socrates or a Cato in a pullover." Nothing escapes him because he is located at one of those crossroads where one sees in all directions and where people who pass first show their face and then their back. His lucidity is total and he does not choose to please. He asks irony to help him convince. He does not hide his affections. One understands better than ever why François Mauriac could write, speaking of the last leaf of stolen time: "This book from a friend does not leave me... it remains at the crest of the wave and is not carried away."

ORIGINAL EDITION on publishing paper.

Copy enriched with a SIGNED AUTOGRAPH INSCRIPTION from the author.