Marcel Proust

Marcel Proust

Valentin Louis Georges Eugène Marcel Proust (10 July 1871 – 18 November 1922) was a French novelist, critic, and essayist best known for his monumental À la recherche du temps perdu (In Search of Lost Time; earlier translated as Remembrance of Things Past). It was published in seven parts between 1913 and 1927.

Read more about Marcel Proust:  Biography, Early Writing, In Search of Lost Time, Bibliography

Famous quotes by marcel proust:

    We have nothing to fear and a great deal to learn from trees, that vigorous and pacific tribe which without stint produces strengthening essences for us, soothing balms, and in whose gracious company we spend so many cool, silent and intimate hours.
    Marcel Proust (1871–1922)

    Our intellect is not the most subtle, the most powerful, the most appropriate, instrument for revealing the truth. It is life that, little by little, example by example, permits us to see that what is most important to our heart, or to our mind, is learned not by reasoning but through other agencies. Then it is that the intellect, observing their superiority, abdicates its control to them upon reasoned grounds and agrees to become their collaborator and lackey.
    Marcel Proust (1871–1922)

    Even the simple act that we call ‘going to visit a person of our acquaintance’ is in part an intellectual act. We fill the physical appearance of the person we see with all the notions we have about him, and in the totality of our impressions about him, these notions play the most important role.
    Marcel Proust (1871–1922)

    A Carpaccio in Venice, la Berma in Phèdre, masterpieces of visual or theatrical art that the prestige surrounding them made so alive, that is so invisible, that, if I were to see a Carpaccio in a gallery of the Louvre or la Berma in some play of which I had never heard, I would not have felt the same delicious surprise at finally setting eyes on the unique and inconceivable object of so many thousands of my dreams.
    Marcel Proust (1871–1922)

    Physical love, so unjustly decried, forces everyone to manifest even the smallest bits of kindness he possesses, of selflessness, that they shine in the eyes of all who surround him.
    Marcel Proust (1871–1922)