136 ordspråk av Marcel Proust

FR  Marcel Proust

Marcel Proust föddes den 10 juli 1871 och dog den 18 november 1922 - French writer
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 Habit is a second nature which prevents us from knowing the first, of which it has neither the cruelties nor the enchantments

 Happiness is beneficial for the body, but it is grief that develops the powers of the mind

 Happiness serves hardly any other purpose than to make unhappiness possible.

 I had come in time to learn that it was a mistake to smile a friendly smile when somebody made a fool of me.

 I understood that all the material of a literary work was in my past life, I understood that I had acquired it in the midst of frivolous amusements, in idleness, in tenderness and in pain, stored up by me without my divining its destination or even its survival, as the seed has in reserve all the ingredients which will nourish the plant.

 If a little dreaming is dangerous, the cure for it is not to dream less but to dream more, to dream all the time.

 If only for the sake of elegance, I try to remain morally pure.

 Illness is the doctor to whom we pay most heed; to kindness, to knowledge we make promise only; pain we obey.

 In a separation it is the one who is not really in love who says the more tender things.

 In his younger days a man dreams of possessing the heart of the woman whom he loves; later, the feeling that he possesses the heart of a woman may be enough to make him fall in love with her.

 In theory one is aware that the earth revolves, but in practice one does not perceive it, the ground upon which one treads seems not to move, and one can live undisturbed. So it is with Time in one's life.

 It has been said that beauty brings a promise of happiness, but it could be otherwise that the possibility of joy is the beginning of beauty.

 It is always thus, impelled by a state of mind which is destined not to last, that we make our irrevocable decisions

 It is comforting when one has a sorrow to lie in the warmth of one's bed and there, abandoning all effort and all resistance, to bury even one's head under the cover, giving one's self up to it completely, moaning like branches in the autumn wind. But there is still a better bed, full of divine odors. It is our sweet, our profound, our impenetrable friendship.

 It is in moments of illness that we are compelled to recognize that we live not alone but chained to a creature of a different kingdom, whole worlds apart, who has no knowledge of us and by whom it is impossible to make ourselves understood: our body.


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Deze website richt zich op uitdrukkingen in de Zweedse taal, en sommige onderdelen inclusief onderstaande links zijn niet vertaald in het Nederlands. Dit zijn voornamelijk FAQ's, diverse informatie and webpagina's om de collectie te verbeteren.


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