Our shadows, now parallel, now close together and joined, traced an exquisite pattern at our feet.
Marcel ProustI drank a second mouthful in which I find nothing more than in the first, then a third which gives me rather less than the second. It is time to stop; the potion is losing its magic.
Marcel ProustThe moments of the past do not remain still; they retain in our memory the motion which drew them towards the future, towards a future which has itself become the past, and draw us on in their train.
Marcel Proust