There is not a woman in the world the possession of whom is as precious as that of the truths which she reveals to us by causing us to suffer.
Marcel ProustThere are mountainous, arduous days, up which one takes an infinite time to climb, and downward-sloping days which one can descend at full tilt, singing as one goes.
Marcel ProustThere is no more ridiculous custom than the one that makes you express sympathy once and for all on a given day to a person whose sorrow will endure as long as his life. Such grief, felt in such a way is always present, it is never too late to talk about it, never repetitious to mention it again.
Marcel Proust