Die Marquise von Sade 1976 wf

For as long as I can remember, I've been living in this chateau, where everything seems as though it had never been touched by the outside world.

In the early mornings when I go for walks in the park after long, lonely, dreamless nights, I hear no human voices, only the laughter of the mockingbird.

What does this sinister laugh remind me of?

The human being whose life is so closely linked to mine.

My spitting image.