Someone, a Facebook friend, a total stranger, wrote on her wall Where there is love, there is life (Gandhi, she said), and that might be true. In Paris there is love, that is true, just like you always heard. I told some Africans once Don’t go to LA, you can smell the hate. They went and saw concrete and concrete and famous names in sidewalk stars, but no hate, or maybe they didn’t recognize it. No stars on Paris sidewalks, but there is love spilling onto them, at least in my neighborhood.


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