Let us be grateful to the people who make us happy — they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.
Let us be grateful to the people who make us happy — they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.
Let us be grateful to the people who make us happy — they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.
Let us be grateful to the people who make us happy — they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.
Let us be grateful to the people who make us happy — they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.
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Let us be grateful to the people who make us happy

— they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.
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marcel proust

More “Marcel proust” Quotes

He suffered greatly from being shut up among all these people whose stupidity and absurdities wounded him all the more c — Marcel Proust, Swann's Way
Creating is living doubly. The groping, anxious quest of a Proust, his meticulous collecting of flowers, of wallpapers, — Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays
Some details in life may look insignificant but appear to be vital leitmotifs in a person's life. They may have the valu — Erik Pevernagie
This compulsion to an activity without respite, without variety, without result was so cruel that one day, noticing a sw — Marcel Proust, Swann's Way
He had so long since ceased to direct his life toward any ideal goal, and had confined himself to the pursuit of quotidi — Marcel Proust, Swanns Way
[They] can’t….understand you: you’re such an exceptional person. That’s what I liked about you from the start — I felt that you weren’t like everybody else.
She can't have understood you: you are so utterly different from ordinary men. That's what I liked about you when I firs — I felt at once that you weren't like everybody else.
The so-called sensitivity of neurotics develops along with their egotism — they cannot bear for other people to flaunt the sufferings with which they are increasingly preoccupied themselves.
In the V-shaped opening of her crape bodice Mlle. Vinteuil felt the sting of her friend's sudden kiss — ...
Because happiness alone is good for the body — whereas sorrow develops the strength of the mind.
The particulars of life do not matter to the artist — they merely provide him with the opportunity to lay bare his genius.
M. Proust was more severe than M. de Caillavet on Anatole France: "He was selfish and supercilious. He had read so much — Céleste Albaret, Monsieur Proust