Quotes About Experience

Romanistas priver?ia mus per vien? valand? išgyventi vis? galim? džiaugsm? ir sielvart? audr?, kai tikrov?je praeit? met? metai, kol patirtume kai kuriuos iš j?, o stipriausieji mums taip ir neatsiskleist? niekados, nes randasi jie iš l?to ir mes negalime to suvokti.

Com os prazeres, dá-se o mesmo que com as fotografias. O que apanhamos na presença da criatura amada não passa de um negativo; revelamo-lo mais tarde, uma vez em casa, quando encontramos à nossa disposição essa câmara escura interior cuja entrada é proibida enquanto há gente à vista.

How paradoxical it is to seek in reality for the pictures that are stored in one's memory, which must inevitably lose the charm that comes to them from memory itself and from their not being apprehended by the senses. The reality that I had known no longer existed.

Kaip dažnai gyvenime b?sim? laim? šitaip pražudo nekantra patirti malonum? tuojau pat!

L'habitude de penser empêche parfois d'éprouver le réel, immunise contre lui, le fait paraître de la pensée encore.

And so it is with our own past. It is a labour in vain to attempt to recapture it: all the efforts of our intellect must prove futile. The past is hidden somewhere outside the realm, beyond the reach of intellect, in some material object (in the sensation which that material object will give us) which we do not suspect. And as for that object, it depends on chance whether we come upon it or not before we ourselves must die.

it was like what used to be called a panopticon but a panopticon of years, a view not of a monument but of a person situated in the modifying perspective of Time.

It seems that events extend further than the moments in which they happen, and cannot be completely contained within them. Certainly, they spill over into the future through the memories we retain of them, but they also demand space in the time that precedes them. Certainly you will say that at that time we do not see them as they will actually be, but are they not also changed in our memory of them?

And once again I had recognized the taste of the crumb of madeleine soaked in her decoction of lime-flowers which my aunt used to give me (although I did not yet know and must long postpone the discovery of why this memory made me so happy), immediately the old gray house upon the street, where her room was, rose up like the scenery of a theater.

So that we always see as young those we knew young and those whom we knew as old people we embellish retrospectively with the virtues of old age,

On ne guérit d'une souffrance qu'à condition de l'éprouver pleinement.

In bodily suffering, at least we do not have ourselves to choose our pain. The malady decides it and imposes it on us. But in jealousy we have to some extent to make trial of sufferings of every sort and degree, before we arrive at the one which seems appropriate.

Unutu?, görevini yerine getirmiyor de?ildi, ama ayn? zamanda özlenen görüntünün ülküselle?tirilmesine ve dolay?s?yla, ilk andaki ac?n?n onu peki?tiren benzer ac?larla bütünle?tirilmesine katk?da bulunuyordu.

Marcel Proust

To reach the end of a day, natures that are slightly nervous, as mine was, make use, like motor-cars, of different 'speeds.' There are mountainous, uncomfortable days, up which one takes an infinite time to pass, and days downward sloping, through which one can go at full tilt, singing as one goes.

Les êtres nous sont d'habitude si indifférents que, quand nous avons mis dans l'un d'eux de telles possibilités de souffrance et de joie pour nous, il nous semble appartenir à un autre univers, il s'entoure de poésie, il fait de notre vie comme une étendue émouvante où il sera plus ou moins rapproché de nous.

The hierophant was not even conscious of my absence. When he heard of it, he was distressed: "What, you didn't see me carving the turkeys myself?" I replied that having failed, so far, to see Rome, Venice, Siena, the Prado, the Dresden gallery, the Indies, Sarah in Phèdre, I had learned to resign myself, and that I would add his carving of turkeys to my list.

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For to the disturbances of memory are linked the intermittences of the heart.

The true greatness of art is to find, grasp, and bring out that reality which we all live a great distance from; that reality which we run the risk of dying without having known, which is quite simply our own life.

I must have suffered intensely during this period, but I realise that it was inevitable. We are healed of a suffering only by experiencing it to the full.

After all, my dear fellow, life, as Anaxagoras has said, is a journey.

The broad daylight of habitual memory gradually fades our images of the past, wears them away until nothing is left of them and the past becomes irrecoverable.

But the old lady on the contrary, far from justifying her daughter's fears, felt every time someone of her own age "disappeared" that she had gained a victory in a contest against formidable competitors.