#proust quotes

[cheshirelibrary]

“Reading is that fruitful miracle of a communication in the midst of solitude.”

 -- Marcel Proust

[elvencantation]

i’m not crying you’re crying 🌸

[thequotablescollector]

"We don’t receive wisdom; we must discover it for ourselves after a journey that no one can take for us or spare us." – Marcel Proust

[stellardrift]

But my grandmother, in all weathers, even when the rain was coming down in torrents and Francoise had rushed the precious wicker armchairs indoors so that they should not get soaked, was to be seen pacing the deserted rain-lashed garden, pushing back her disordered grey locks so that her forehead might be freer to absorb the health-giving draughts of wind and rain. She would say, 'At last one can breath!' and would trot up and down the sodden paths-- too straight and symmetrical for her liking, owing to the want of any feeling for nature in  the new gardener, whom my father had been asking all morning if the weather would improve-- her keen, jerky little step regulated by the various effects wrought upon her soul by the intoxication of the storm, the power of hygiene, the stupidity of my upbringing and the symmetry of the gardens, rather than by any anxiety (for that was quite unknown to her) to save her plum-coloured skirt from the mud-stains beneath which it would gradually disappear to a height that was the constant bane and despair of her maid

In Search of Lost Time, Marcel Proust, p13 (Everyman Library, 2001)

[theromanticidealist-blog]

"Those who have played a big part in one's life very rarely disappear from it suddenly for good. They return to it at odd moments...before leaving it for good"

Marcel Proust

[sub-textural]

Always treasured.

[mudfishblog]

Ideas are substitutes for grief

Marcel Proust

[stellardrift]

“Now there is one thing I can tell you: you will enjoy certain pleasures you would not fathom now. When you still had your mother you often thought of the days when you would have her no longer. Now you will often think of days past when you had her. When you are used to this horrible thing that they will forever be cast into the past, then you will gently feel her revive, returning to take her place, her entire place, beside you. At the present time, this is not yet possible. Let yourself be inert, wait till the incomprehensible power ... that has broken you restores you a little, I say a little, for henceforth you will always keep something broken about you. Tell yourself this, too, for it is a kind of pleasure to know that you will never love less, that you will never be consoled, that you will constantly remember more and more.”

Marcel Proust, In Search of Lost Time