Anyone who sat on a stage with Martin Walser rarely left her without bruises. Sometimes on the body, sometimes on the soul, often on both. Like Napoleon, Walser liked to pinch people he liked and wanted to honor. Martin Walser was a nudge and a buffer, a patter and a caresser. A master of the air kiss. A master of the implied slapping, slapping on the back and pinching in the ear, hugging and butting in the head. He was looking for and needed the tenderness infight. It was his way of making people close. And closeness was important to him. vital.
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