'I get up with you and I go to bed with you,' I said jokingly. We stood in his kitchenette, where he made coffee for himself and tea for me. Reinbert's big startled eyes told me that my ironic remark had landed in the barren soil of his deadly seriousness. - It was not the first and not the last misunderstanding between biographer and biographer.
It must have been sometime in 2008 or 2009, when the oppressive realisation began to dawn on me that I had put myself...
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