-If you are lucky enouh to have lived in Paris as a young man,
then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast.
“I’ve seen you, beauty, and you belong to me now, whoever you are waiting for and if I never see you again. I thought. You belong to me and all Paris belongs to me and I belong to this notebook and this pencil.
Then I went back to writing and I entered far into the story and was lost in it, I was writing it now and it was not writing itself and I did not look up nor know anything about the time nor think where I was nor order any more rum St James. I was tired of rum St James without thinking about it. Then the story was finished and I was very tired. I read the last paragraph and then I looked up and looked for the girl and she had gone. I hope she’s gone with a good man, I thought. But I felt sad.”
A Moveable Feast. Ernest Hemingway.