8ff9f28
|
Our worst fears, like our greatest hopes, are not outside our powers, and we can come in the end to triumph over the former and to achieve the latter.
|
|
inspiration
life
wisdom
|
Marcel Proust |
8e31048
|
To achieve accurate knowledge of others, if such a thing were possible, we could only ever arrive at it through the slow and unsure recognition of our own initial optical inaccuracies. However, such knowledge is not possible: for, while our vision of others is being adjusted, they, who are not made of mere brute matter, are also changing; we think we have managed to see them more clearly, but they shift; and when we believe we have them ful..
|
|
|
Marcel Proust |
f17bd6d
|
I feel that there is much to be said for the Celtic belief that the souls of those whom we have lost are held captive in some inferior being, in an animal, in a plant, in some inanimate object, and thus effectively lost to us until the day (which to many never comes) when we happen to pass by the tree or to obtain possession of the object which forms their prison. Then they start and tremble, they call us by our name, and as soon as we have..
|
|
past
|
Marcel Proust |
731e65b
|
Our vanity, our passions, our spirit of imitation, our abstract intelligence, our habits have long been at work, and it is the task of art to undo this work of theirs, making us travel back in the direction from which we have come to the depths where what has really existed lies unknown within us.
|
|
unraveling
revelation
|
Marcel Proust |
841223c
|
in my cowardice I became at once a man, and did what all we grown men do when face to face with suffering and injustice; I preferred not to see them
|
|
suffering
|
Marcel Proust |
e93d50a
|
Through art alone are we able to emerge from ourselves, to know what another person sees of a universe which is not the same as our own and of which, without art, the landscapes would remain as unknown to us as those that may exist on the moon. Thanks to art, instead of seeing one world only, our own, we see that world multiply itself and we have at our disposal as many worlds as there are original artists, worlds more different one from th..
|
|
connections
|
Marcel Proust |
b96e1aa
|
The soldier is convinced that a certain indefinitely extendable time period is accorded him before he is killed, the burglar before he is caught, men in general, before they must die. That is the amulet which preserves individuals -- and sometimes populations -- not from danger, but from the fear of danger, in reality from the belief in danger, which in some cases allows them to brave it without being brave. Such a confidence, just as unfou..
|
|
|
Marcel Proust |
2ec12ef
|
People claim that we recapture for a moment the self that we were long ago when we enter some house or garden in which we used to live in our youth. But these are most hazardous pilgrimages, which end as often in disappointment as in success. It is in ourselves that we should rather seek to find those fixed places, contemporaneous with different years.
|
|
|
Marcel Proust |
1225061
|
the comfort of reclusion, the poetry of hibernation
|
|
hibernation
reclusion
introversion
|
Marcel Proust |
c35786f
|
He knew that the very memory of the piano falsified still further the perspective in which he saw the elements of music, that the field open to the musician is not a miserable stave of seven notes, but an immeasurable keyboard (still almost entirely unknown) on which, here and there only, separated by the thick darkness of its unexplored tracts, some few among the millions of keys of tenderness, of passion, of courage, of serenity, which co..
|
|
|
Marcel Proust |
9386363
|
I felt myself still reliving a past which was no longer anything more than the history of another person;
|
|
|
Marcel Proust |
4332e1d
|
With women who do not love us, as with the "dear departed," the knowledge that there is no hope left does not prevent us from continuing to wait."
|
|
women
unrequited-love
|
Marcel Proust |
6bcc40c
|
But, when nothing subsists of an old past, after the death of people, after the destruction of things, alone, frailer but more enduring, more immaterial, more persistent, more faithful, smell and taste still remain for a long time, like souls, remembering, waiting, hoping, on the ruin of all the rest, bearing without giving way, on their almost impalpable droplet, the immense edifice of memory.
|
|
smell
taste
|
Marcel Proust |
cd78c3d
|
Our desires interweave with one another; and in the confusion of existence, it is seldom that a joy is promptly paired with the desire that longed for it.
|
|
|
Marcel Proust |
03d4a97
|
One becomes moral as soon as one is unhappy.
|
|
|
Marcel Proust |
e02f464
|
It is not only by dint of lying to others, but also of lying to ourselves, that we cease to notice that we are lying.
|
|
self-deception
|
Marcel Proust |
af160ad
|
Perhaps the immobility of the things that surround us is forced upon them by our conviction that they are themselves, and not anything else, and by the immobility of our conceptions of them.
|
|
|
Marcel Proust |
a3deed8
|
For although we know that the years pass, that youth gives way to old age, that fortunes and thrones crumble (even the most solid among them) and that fame is transitory, the manner in which--by means of a sort of snapshot--we take cognisance of this moving universe whirled along by Time, has the contrary effect of immobilising it.
|
|
|
Marcel Proust |
59b5f1f
|
They reminded me that it was my fate to pursue only phantoms, creatures whose reality existed to a great extent in my imagination; for there are people - and this had been my case since youth - for whom all the things that have a fixed value, assessable by others, fortune, success, high positions, do not count; what they must have is phantoms. They sacrifice all the rest, devote all their efforts, make everything else subservient to the pur..
|
|
|
Marcel Proust |
266a7b9
|
But sometimes the future is latent in us without our knowing it, and our supposedly lying words foreshadow an imminent reality.
|
|
|
Marcel Proust |
96faba2
|
And it is because they contain thus within themselves the hours of the past that human bodies have the power to hurt so terribly those who love them, because they contain the memories of so many joys and desires already effaced for them, but still cruel for the lover who contemplates and prolongs in the dimension of Time the beloved body of which he is jealous, so jealous that he may even wish for its destruction. For after death Time withd..
|
|
|
Marcel Proust |
750db8d
|
For what we suppose to be our love or our jealousy is never a single, continuous and indivisible passion. It is composed of an infinity of successive loves, of different jealousies, each of which is ephemeral, although by their uninterrupted multiplicity they give us the impression of continuity, the illusion of unity.
|
|
|
Marcel Proust |
3bc1ebc
|
Mais, quand d'un passe ancien rien ne subsiste, apres la mort des etres, apres la destruction des choses, seules, plus freles mais plus vivaces, plus immaterielles, plus persistantes, plus fideles, l'odeur et la saveur restent encore longtemps, comme des ames, a se rappeler, a attendre, a esperer, sur la ruine de tout le reste, a porter sans flechir, sur leur gouttelette presque impalpable, l'edifice immense du souvenir.
|
|
temps
|
Marcel Proust |
06441d5
|
People don't know when they are happy. They're never so unhappy as they think they are.
|
|
unhappiness
|
Marcel Proust |
aebb1ce
|
I loved her [Gilberte]; I was sorry not to have had the time and the inspiration to insult her, to hurt her, to force her to keep some memory of me. I thought her so beautiful that I should have liked to be able to retrace my steps so as to shake my fist at her and shout, "I think you're hideous, grotesque; how I loathe you!"_"
|
|
love
unrequited-love
|
Marcel Proust |
21e293a
|
The time which we have at our disposal every day is elastic; the passions that we feel expand it, those that we inspire contract it; and habit fills up what remains.
|
|
time
passions
|
Marcel Proust |
bab7d1d
|
This malady which Swann's love had become had so proliferated, was so closely interwoven with all his habits, with all his actions, with his thoughts, his health, his sleep, his life, even with what he hoped for after his death, was so utterly inseparable from him, that it would have been impossible to eradicate it without almost entirely destroying him; as surgeons say, his love was no longer operable.
|
|
|
Marcel Proust |
7f6d202
|
Facts do not find their way into the world in which our beliefs reside; they did not produce our beliefs, they do not destroy them; they may inflict on them the most constant refutations without weakening them, and an avalanche of afflictions or ailments succeeding one another without interruption in a family will not make it doubt the goodness of its God or the talent of its doctor.
|
|
|
Marcel Proust |
1b7f002
|
I have every useless thing in the world in my house there. The only thing wanting is the necessary thing, a great patch of open sky like this. Always try to keep a patch of sky above your life, little boy," he added, turning to me. "You have a soul in you of rare quality, an artist's nature; never let it starve for lack of what it needs."
|
|
|
Marcel Proust |
899faa1
|
From the sound of pattering raindrops I recaptured the scent of the lilacs at Combray; from the shifting of the sun's rays on the balcony the pigeons in the Champs-Elysees; from the muffling of sounds in the heat of the morning hours, the cool taste of cherries; the longing for Brittany or Venice from the noise of the wind and the return of Easter. Summer was at hand, the days were long, the weather was warm. It was the season when, early i..
|
|
|
Marcel Proust |
ac68b69
|
She poured out Swann's tea, inquired "Lemon or cream?" and, on his answering "Cream, please," said to him with a laugh: "A cloud!" And as he pronounced it excellent, "You see, I know just how you like it." This tea had indeed seemed to Swann, just as it seemed to her; something precious, and love has such a need to find some justification for itself, some guarantee of duration, in pleasures which without it would have no existence and must ..
|
|
tea
|
Marcel Proust |
87bd82b
|
We may, indeed, say that the hour of death is uncertain, but when we say so we represent that hour to ourselves as situated in a vague and remote expanse of time, it never occurs to us that it can have any connexion with the day that has already dawned, or may signify that death -- or its first assault and partial possession of us, after which it will never leave hold of us again -- may occur this very afternoon, so far from uncertain, this..
|
|
|
Marcel Proust |
7f656ed
|
What we have not had to decipher, to elucidate by our own efforts, what was clear before we looked at it, is not ours. From ourselves comes only that which we drag forth from the obscurity which lies within us, that which to others is unknown.
|
|
self
|
Marcel Proust |
eb40003
|
Asparagus, tinged with ultramarine and rosy pink which ran from their heads, finely stippled in mauve and azure, through a series of imperceptible changes to their white feet, still stained a little by the soil of their garden-bed: a rainbow-loveliness that was not of this world. I felt that these celestial hues indicated the presence of exquisite creatures who had been pleased to assume vegetable form, who, through the disguise which cover..
|
|
|
Marcel Proust |
044951f
|
In the sort of screen dappled with different states of mind which my consciousness would simultaneously unfold while I read, and which ranged from the aspirations hidden deepest within me to the completely exterior vision of the horizon which I had, at the bottom of the garden, before my eyes, what was first in me, innermost, the constantly moving handle that controlled the rest, was my belief in the philosophical richness and beauty of the..
|
|
reading
|
Marcel Proust |
8e7914c
|
The novelist's happy discovery was to think of substituting for those opaque sections, impenetrable by the human spirit, their equivalent in immaterial sections, things, that is, which the spirit can assimilate to itself. After which it matters not that the actions, the feelings of this new order of creatures appear to us in the guise of truth, since we have made them our own, since it is in ourselves that they are happening, that they are ..
|
|
words
literature
reading
writing
|
Marcel Proust |
ce13467
|
People who, not being in love themselves, feel that a clever man should only be unhappy about a person who is worth his while; which is rather like being astonished that anyone should condescend to die of cholera at the bidding of so insignificant a creature as the comma bacillus.
|
|
|
Marcel Proust |
215d0f5
|
The idea that one will die is more painful than dying, but less painful than the idea that another person is dead, that, becoming once more a still, plane surface after having engulfed a person, a reality extends, without even a ripple at the point of disappearance from which that person is excluded, in which there no longer exists any will, any knowledge, and from which it is as difficult to reascend to the idea that that person has lived ..
|
|
|
Marcel Proust |
d46c7f1
|
Sometimes in the afternoon sky the moon would pass white as a cloud, furtive, lusterless, like an actress who does not have to perform yet and who, from the audience, in street clothes, watches the other actors for a moment, making herself inconspicuous, not wanting anyone to pay attention to her.
|
|
|
Marcel Proust |
9a7dd80
|
There are people whose faces assume an unaccustomed beauty and majesty the moment they cease to look out of their eyes.
|
|
|
Marcel Proust |
1139dc8
|
Like everyone who possesses something precious in order to know what would happen if he ceased for a moment to possess it, he had detached the precious object from his mind, leaving, as he thought, everything else in the same state as when it was there. But the absence of one part from a whole is not only that, it is not simply a partial lack, it is a derangement of all the other parts, a new state which it was impossible to foresee in the ..
|
|
|
Marcel Proust |
33ecb8d
|
I have friends wherever there are companies of trees, wounded but not vanquished, which huddle together with touching obstinancy to implore an inclement and pitiless sky.
|
|
swann-s-way
|
Marcel Proust |
1c8000d
|
For, like desire, regret seeks not to be analysed but to be satisfied. When one begins to love, one spends one's time, not in getting to know what one's love really is, but in making it possible to meet next day. When one abandons love one seeks not to know one's grief but to offer to her who is causing it that expression of it which seems to one the most moving. One says the things which one feels the need of saying, and which the other wi..
|
|
spite
regret
|
Marcel Proust |
a75364a
|
The reality that I had known no longer existed. The places that we have known belong now only to the little world of space on which we map them for our own convenience. None of them was ever more than a thin slice, held between the contiguous impressions that composed our life at that time; remembrance of a particular form is but regret for a particular moment; and houses, roads, avenues are as fugitive, alas, as the years.
|
|
|
Marcel Proust |