« We climbed the spiral staircase. It was totally dark; the climb lasted and eternity. At last, we reached the open platform. Completely out of breath, my accomplice collapsed into the chair. Impatient, enraptured, I run beside the balustrade. It was more beautiful that I had imagined! The dark, indefinable shapes were as black as night, the fog over Paris was milk white! Scarcely discernible, the Hotel-Dieu, the Tour Saint Jacques, the Quartier Latin, the Sorbonne, were luminous and somber shapes… Paris was ageless, bodiless… Present and past, history and legend, intermingle. At the top of this cathedral, I expected to meet Quasimodo the bell-ringer around some corner, and later upon descending into the city, I would certainly pass Verlaine and François Villon, the Marquis de Sade, Gérard de Nerval, Restif de la Bretonne." Brassai |