I like to wake up after a night of drinking, and amazing dreams, and for a second not know where I am. I love that feeling. It means you are still moving, still alive.And then you go, “Oh yeah, that’s right.”“Shit, I’m in England, or shit I’m in Germany.”Or it can be warm, like, “Oh yeah, I’m in Paris. I live in Paris. How the hell did you pull that one off?”Those first few seconds, when you first wake up, they are key.

There is some kind of elegant gentleness to Paris that I don't quite understand yet.

Every second in the air in Paris is art.

What you don’t know about Paris, is that when you live there, over time, an invisible thread forms around your heart, and so when you leave, it always tugs you back.