Quotes from Marcel Proust, Jean Santeuil

Even his mother, his own mother, had once accused him of being a snob.

Much that for us is fraught with with happiness or misery, remains almost unnoticed by the rest of the world.

The wretchedness of ordinary life, endured so gaily when it is part of our normal existence, is made far worse when it comes as something new, and is exaggerated by the working of the imagination.

Monsieur Beulier never engaged in thought except to speak the truth, and never spoke except to express his thought.

Jean's desires, like those of all men in love, were concentrated on the impossible.

Forgive me, Bertrand, for having on that day loved in you a beauty in which your self-esteem could take no pride, which could not in any way determine my affection.