Do you suppose that it is within your power to insult me? You evidently are not aware to whom you are speaking? Do you imagine that the envenomed spittle of five hundred little gentlemen of your type, heaped one upon another, would succeed in slobbering so much as the tips of my august toes?
Marcel ProustAt the heart of our friendly or purely social relations, there lurks a hostility momentarily cured but recurring by fits and starts.
Marcel ProustPerfume is that last and best reserve of the past, the one which when all out tears have run dry, can make us cry again!
Marcel Proust