The day I arrived in Paris, I went for a walk on the Champs-Elysées
when suddenly I saw a man go through a French window, fall
through the air, grab at a store sign and crash at my feet. He was
bleeding profusely. An ambulance arrived and took him to
Marmottan hospital. The next day, I discovered in the newspapers
that it had been Jacques Prévert. I have always considered it an
omen that the same day I got to Paris, a poet fell on my head.