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It is the tragedy of other people that they are to us merely showcases for the very perishable collections of our own mind.

Marcel Proust

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Marcel Proust
Age: 51 †
Born: 1871
Born: July 10
Died: 1922
Died: November 18
Author
Essayist
Literary Critic
Novelist
Poet
Prosaist
Writer
Paris
France
Valentin Louis Georges Eugène Marcel Proust
Proust
Valentin-Louis-Georgs-Eugène-Marcel Proust
Valentin Louis Georges Eugéne Marcel Proust
Valentin-Louis-Georges-Eugéne-Marcel Proust
Valentin Louis Georges Eugene Marcel Proust
Valentin-Louis-Georges-Eugene-Marcel Proust
Bernard d'Algouvres
Valentin-Louis-Georges-Eugène-Marcel Proust
Showcases
Perishable
Showcase
Collections
Tragedy
Merely
Mind
People

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For a long time I would go to bed early. [Fr., Longtemps, je me suis couche de bonne heure.]
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There is no idea that does not carry in itself a possible refutation, no word that does not imply its opposite.
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A woman whom we need and who makes us suffer elicits from us a whole gamut of feelings far more profound and vital than a man of genius who interests us.
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Under each station of the real, another glimmers.
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The courage of one's opinions is always a form of calculating cowardice in the eyes of the other side.
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Friendship is in the end no more than: . . . a lie which seeks to make us believe that we are not irremediably alone.
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I should have been happy: I wasn’t.
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Existence is of little interest save on days when the dust of realities is mingled with magic sand.
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And so when studying faces, we do indeed measure them, but as painters, not as surveyors.
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Like many intellectuals, he was incapable of saying a simple thing in a simple way.
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There is no more ridiculous custom than the one that makes you express sympathy once and for all on a given day to a person whose sorrow will endure as long as his life. Such grief, felt in such a way is always present, it is never too late to talk about it, never repetitious to mention it again.
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As soon as he ceased to be mad he became merely stupid. There are maladies we must not seek to cure because they alone protect us from others that are more serious.
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Photography is the product of complete alienation.
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We are at times too ready to believe that the present is the only possible state of things.
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How can we have the courage to wish to live, how can we make a movement to preserve ourselves from death, in a world where love is provoked by a lie and consists solely in the need of having our sufferings appeased by whatever being has made us suffer?
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The only possible paradises are those we have lost
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I had long since given up trying to extract from a woman as it were the square root of her unknown quantity, the mystery of which a mere introduction was generally enough to dispel.
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I cannot express the uneasiness caused in me by this intrusion of mystery and beauty into a room I had at last filled with myself to the point of paying no more attention to the room than to that self. The anesthetizing influence of habit having ceased, I would begin to have thoughts, and feelings, and they are such sad things.
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As to the pretty girls who went past, from the day on which I had first known that their cheeks could be kissed, I had become curious about their souls. And the Universe had appeared to me more interesting.
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Things don't change, but by and by our wishes change.
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