For me, Harlequin is the very symbol of festivities.

The merry, good-natured, improvised festivities, when all let themselves go and enjoy themselves without fearing aggression or quarrels.

The festivities that provide the necessary happiness for the survival of mankind.

In those days, even after a world war, people used to rejoice in festivities, to help their wounds heal. The members of some tribes sing all night long to mask their suffering. As for us, members of the G8, aren't we able to give Harlequin his colours back and just do one thing: smile?