The two of them were linked in some mysterious storybook way.
Marcel Proust, Swann's Way (1913)
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flickr.com :: Photo by :: Double RR on flickr|Rain
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“A little tap at the window, as though some missile had struck it, followed by a plentiful, falling sound, as light, though, as if a shower of sand were being sprinkled from a window overhead; then the fall spread, took on an order, a rhythm, became liquid, loud, drumming, musical, innumerable, universal. It was the rain”
― Marcel Proust, Swann's Way
[alive on all channels]
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'Life' contains situations more interesting, more novelistic than any novel.
from In Search of Lost Time, Book 1: Swann’s Way by Marcel Proust
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Marcel Proust “In Search of Lost Time".
1. Swann's Way (1913)
2. Within a Budding Grove (1919)
3. The Guermantes Way (1920–1921)
4. Sodom and Gomorrah (1921–1922)
5. The Captive (1923)
6. The Fugitive (1925)
7. Time Regained (1927)
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‘Always try to keep a patch of sky above your life, little boy, (...) You have a soul in you of rare quality, an artist’s nature; never let it starve for lack of what it needs.
Marcel Proust | A la Recherche du Temps Perdu / Swann's Way
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For a long time I went to bed early.
Swann's Way by Marcel Proust
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Georgia O'Keeffe 1928 Brown and Tan Leaves, oil on canvas, PC
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In search of lost time; Swann’s way
“And even before my brain, hesitating at the threshold of times and shapes, had reassembled the circumstances sufficiently to identify the room, it—my body—would recall from each room in succession the style of the bed, the position of the doors, the angle at which the daylight came in at the windows, whether there was a passage outside, what I had had in my mind when I went to sleep and found there when I awoke.”
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Swann's Way by Marcel Proust
On the Road
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The comfort of reclusion, the poetry of hibernation.
Marcel Proust, Swann's Way
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and so we begin part II of swann's way
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“A little tap at the window, as though some missile had struck it, followed by a plentiful, falling sound, as light, though, as if a shower of sand were being sprinkled from a window overhead; then the fall spread, took on an order, a rhythm, became liquid, loud, drumming, musical, innumerable, universal. It was the rain”
― Marcel Proust, Swann's Way
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Those consumed by the wasting torments of merciless love haunt the sequestered alleys and myrtle groves that give them cover; death itself cannot cure them of love's disease.
from Book 6, Lines 440-444 of The Aeneid by Virgil
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Every friend group's got one
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