" Only, when I am in bed, at dawn, when all that can be heard in Paris is the sound of cars, my memory betrays me: summer, with everything I remember of it, comes flooding back. Anne, Anne! I repeat that name very softly to myself, over and over in the dark. Then something stirs within me with eyes closed, I greet by its name, sadness: Bonjour tristesse. "

― Françoise Sagan , Bonjour tristesse