On July 10, 1871, the French novelist and critic Marcel Proust was born. In voluntary isolation, he wrote what would be his most important work: In Search of Lost Time. Today we remember the best phrases of Marcel Proust on the 150th anniversary of his birth.
And it is that on this day celebrations are held throughout France, and in other corners of the world to honor the writer.
Marcel Proust’s most surprising quotes
Every kiss calls another kiss. How naturally kisses are born in those first times of love! They come pressing against each other; and so difficult would be to cut the kisses that are given in an hour, like the flowers of a field in the month of May.
It is not only by dint of lying to others, but also by lying to ourselves, that we stop noticing that we are lying.
Each reader finds himself. The writer’s work is simply a kind of optical instrument that enables the reader to discern something of his own that, without the book, he might never have noticed.
We must be brave in facing our own contradictions, rather than highlighting that of others. The best phrases of Marcel Proust
With the conservation of energy that everything physical possesses, suffering does not even need the lessons of memory: thus, a man who has forgotten the beautiful nights that he spent in the moonlight in the forest, still suffers from the rheumatism that he caught in it. .
Jealousy, spending time making false assumptions, when it comes to discovering the truth.
We always speak of defects analogous to those we have, as if it were a deviant way of talking about ourselves, which joins the pleasure of absolution to that of confessing.
If a little sleep is dangerous, the cure for it is not to dream less, it is to dream all the time.
Like everyone who is not in love, he thinks that the person he loves can be chosen based on endless deliberations about his advantages and disadvantages.
At a certain age, a little out of self-love, a little out of mischief, the things we want most are the things we pretend not to want.
No matter how well done the stitches are, it is difficult to live when our entrails have been replaced by longing for a person; It seems that the latter occupies more place than the former, we feel it continually, and besides, what ambiguity to be forced to think about a part of one’s own body!
