So, like a forgotten fire, a childhood can always flare up again within us. - Gaston Bachelard

"What a dynamic, handsome object is a path! How precise the familiar hill paths remain for our muscular consciousness! "Oh, my roads and their cadence.

To sum up, while we do not seek to instruct the reader, we should feel rewarded for our efforts if we can persuade him to practice an exercise at which we are a master: to laugh at oneself. No progress is possible in the acquisition of objective knowledge without this self-critical irony.

The poetic image […] is not an echo of the past. On the contrary: through the brilliance of any image, the distant past resounds with echoes.