"I was twenty years old in 1995, the year my father, the filmmaker Louis Malle, died. I was in my second year of a preparatory course for Ecole Normal Supérieure. At the exact moment I started falling love with a guy in my class and started rejecting my father's influence, the first symptoms of his illness appeared. I was shattered, as much by the shock of the news as by the conviction that I caused the illness because of my vague desires for independence. My feelings of guilt made me act in an inappropriate way. For me, my violent honesty back then embodies a certain idea of youth."