Love Is A Striking Example Of How

But When From A Long-distant Past Nothing Subsists, After The People Are Dead, After The Things Are Broken And Scattered, Taste And Smell Alone, More Fragile But More Enduring, More Unsubstantial, More Persistent, More Faithful, Remain Poised A Long Time, Like Souls, Remembering, Waiting, Hoping, Amid The Ruins Of All The Rest; And Bear Unflinchingly, In The Tiny And Almost Impalpable Drop Of Their Essence, The Vast Structure Of Recollection.

Time Passes, And Little By Little Everything That We Have Spoken In Falsehood Becomes True.

For Every Sin There Is Forgiveness, And Especially For The Sins Of Youth.

Proust Was The Greatest Novelist Of The Twentieth Century, Just As Tolstoy Was In The Nineteenth.

Fashions, Being Themselves Begotten Of The Desire For Change, Are Quick To Change Also.