There are people in this world so rich that when it rains they simply fly away on private jets in search of sun.

For anyone who wanted to throw away his watch, along with his past, this was the place.

How could I ever forget my best friend, the man, who had changed my destiny simply by allowing me to write about him?

...Don't insult readers by questioning the extent of their imaginations. Most need only to be nudged to solve a good mystery.

Beware. Those with the least amount of authority exercise it the most often.

The French know the intrinsic value of holding on to the past, its pleasures, its promises, and its tender mercies.

This would become a lifelong pattern, sitting in my comfort zone high above the world in some sort of self-imposed exile.

In Paris, the dance was everything. The dance of romance was what a man could remember in his old age. Didn’t all young Americans come to Europe in search of that kind of romance?

I write to raise the curtain on life's endless possibilities. Because you asked, "Pourquoi?