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Death is in truth an illness from which we recover

Marcel Proust

In a separation it is the one who is not really in love who says the more tender things.
MARCEL PROUST

Literature Love Reality
There are optical illusions in time as well as space.
MARCEL PROUST

Illusion Science Space
It is often hard to bear the tears that we ourselves have caused.
MARCEL PROUST

Inspirational Ourselves Tears
There comes in all our lives a time, when the ears can listen to no music save what the moonlight breathes through the flute of silence.
MARCEL PROUST

Ears Listening Moon Music Silence Time
It has been said that beauty is a promise of happiness. Conversely, the possibility of pleasure can be a beginning of beauty.
MARCEL PROUST

Beauty Possible Promise
Time passes, and little by little everything that we have spoken in falsehood becomes true.
MARCEL PROUST

Deep Literature Lying Time
We live not alone but chained to a creature of a different kingdom: our body.
MARCEL PROUST

Body Different Ourselves
Sometimes in this life, under the stress of an exceptional emotion, people do say what they think.
MARCEL PROUST

Emotion Honesty Life People Thinking
The time at our disposal each day is elastic; the passions we feel dilate it, those that inspire us shrink it, and habit fills it.
MARCEL PROUST

Feeling Habit Inspirational Passion
It comes so soon, the moment when there is nothing left to wait for.
MARCEL PROUST

Moments Wait
We are at times too ready to believe that the present is the only possible state of things.
MARCEL PROUST

Believe Mindset Philosophy Possible
Remembrance of things past is not necessarily the remembrance of things as they were.
MARCEL PROUST

Memories Necessary Past Remember
When from a long distant past nothing subsists after the things are broken and scattered, the smell and taste of things remain.
MARCEL PROUST

Break Distance Food Past Taste
It is not because other people are dead that our affection for them grows faint, it is because we ourselves are dying.
MARCEL PROUST

Affection Dying Fade Growth Literature People
Desire makes everything blossom; possession makes everything wither and fade.
MARCEL PROUST

Desire Difference Fade
Reading is that fruitful miracle of a communication in the midst of solitude.
MARCEL PROUST

Communication Miracle Reading Solitude

Death is in truth an illness from which we recover

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Death is in truth an illness from which we recover

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