had passed between them on this score wasn’t so and could never be.  Later on, through his mother, I had his version of that, but I may remark that I gave it no credit.  Poor Mrs. Nettlepoint, on the other hand, was of course to give it all.  I was almost capable, after the girl had left me, of

We read frequently if unknowingly, in quest of a mind more original than our own.

Word fossils never fade. Insult only 
after the promise to remain abstained.

The charms of the passing woman are generally in direct proportion to the swiftness of her passing.

Written By Marcel Proust

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