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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

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 artist who gives up an hour of work for an hour of conversation with a friend knows that he is sacrificing a reality for something that does not exist.
MARCEL PROUST

Existence Give Up Reality Sacrifice
The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.
MARCEL PROUST

Discover Eyes Inspirational Life Philosophy
The bonds that unite us to another human being are sanctified when he or she adopts the same point of view as ourselves in judging one of our imperfections.
MARCEL PROUST

Imperfection Judgement View
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
The only paradise is paradise lost.
MARCEL PROUST

Lost Paradise
Love is a striking example of how little reality means to us.
MARCEL PROUST

Deep Love Reality
When I am not too sad to listen, music is my consolation.
MARCEL PROUST

Listen Music Sad
Love ever unsatisfied, lives always in the moment that is about to come.
MARCEL PROUST

Love Moments Satisfaction
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
Always try to keep a patch of sky above your life.
MARCEL PROUST

Life Sky Yourself
You can’t learn the truth about a man’s intentions by asking him.
MARCEL PROUST

Himself Learning Men Truth
We are healed of a suffering only by experiencing it to the full.
MARCEL PROUST

Experience Grief Healing Suffering
It comes so soon, the moment when there is nothing left to wait for.
MARCEL PROUST

Moments Wait
The highest praise of God consists in the denial of him by the atheist who finds creation so perfect that it can dispense with a creator.
MARCEL PROUST

Atheist Creation Perfection
Even though our lives wander, our memories remain in one place.
MARCEL PROUST

Memories Oneself Place

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.

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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.

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