Igor

“In point of fact, we always discover after the event that our adversaries had a reason for taking the side they do take, and one that does not depend on the degree to which that side is in the right, and that those who think as we do have been constrained to do so by, if their moral nature is too contemptible to be invoked, intelligence, and if they have no great acumen, uprightness.”
― Marcel Proust, Sodom and Gomorrah

“It is certain that she had represented something quite different for me in Balbec. But even when we consider it insufficient at the time, our intimacy with the woman we love creates between her and us, despite its painful shortcomings, social ties that outlast our love and even the memory of that love. Then, in the woman who is now no more to us than a means, a path toward others, we are just as astonished and amused to discover in our memory the original special appeal of her name for the other being we once were, as if, after giving a cabman an address on the Boulevard des Capucines or on the rue du Bac, thinking only of the person we are going to see there, we were to remind ourselves that these names were once those of the Capuchin nuns whose convent stood there and of the ferry across the Seine.”
― Marcel Proust, The Guermantes Way

“The convenience of a grand hotel, or an establishment such as Rachel’s once was, is that, without intermediaries, the sight of a hundred-franc note, and even more of a thousand-franc note, even when being given on this occasion to someone else, causes the hitherto frozen face of an employee or of a woman to smile and show willingness. In politics, on the other hand, or the relationship of a lover and a mistress, too many things are interposed between the money and the docility. So many things that even those in whom money finally kindles a smile are often incapable of following the inner process that links the two, and believe themselves to be, indeed are, more delicate.”
― Marcel Proust, Sodom and Gomorrah

“But these recurrences of desire force us to reflect that, if we wanted to meet these girls again with the same pleasure, we should have also to go back to the year in question, which has since been followed by ten others, in the course of which the girl has faded. We can sometimes find a person again, but not abolish time. All this up until that unforeseen day, sad as a winter’s night, when we are no longer seeking that particular girl, or any other, and when to find one would alarm us even. For we no longer feel we have sufficient attractions to please, or the strength to love. Not, of course, that we are, in the true sense of the word, impotent. So far as love is concerned, we would love more than ever. But we feel that it is too great an undertaking for the little strength that we preserve. Our eternal rest has already introduced intervals, in which we cannot go out, cannot speak.”
― Marcel Proust, Sodom and Gomorrah