Marcel Proust Quotes About Sorrow

Quotes about: Sorrow

• There is no more ridiculous custom than the one that makes you express sympathy once and for all on a given day to a person whose sorrow will endure as long as his life. Such grief, felt in such a way is always present, it is never too late to talk about it, never repetitious to mention it again.

  Marcel Proust

  Grief, Long, Sorrow

• Many years have passed since that night. The wall of the staircase up which I had watched the light of his candle gradually climb was long ago demolished. And in myself, too, many things have perished which I imagined would last for ever, and new ones have arisen, giving birth to new sorrows and new joys which in those days I could not have foreseen, just as now the old are hard to understand.

  Marcel Proust

  Wall, Night, Light

  Marcel Proust (2008). “The Senses of Consciousness: Swann's Way in Half”, p.33, Lulu.com

• It is comforting when one has a sorrow to lie in the warmth of one's bed and there, abandoning all effort and all resistance, to bury even one's head under the cover, giving one's self up to it completely, moaning like branches in the autumn wind. But there is still a better bed, full of divine odors. It is our sweet, our profound, our impenetrable friendship.

  Marcel Proust

  Sweet, War, Lying

  Marcel Proust (1957). “Pleasures and days: and other writings”

• Memory nourishes the heart, and grief abates.

  Marcel Proust

  Sympathy, Memories, Grief

  Marcel Proust (1966). “Letters of Marcel Proust”

• The thirst for something other than what we have…to bring something new, even if it is worse, some emotion, some sorrow; when our sensibility, which happiness has silenced like an idle harp, wants to resonate under some hand, even a rough one, and even if it might be broken by it.

  Marcel Proust

  Inspiration, Hands, Broken

• At that time, he was satisfying a sensual curiosity by experiencing the pleasures of people who live for love. He had believed he could stop there, that he would not be obliged to learn their sorrows; how small a thing her charm was for him now compared with the astounding terror that extended out from it like a murky halo, the immense anguish of not knowing at every moment what she had been doing, of not possessing her everywhere and always!

  Marcel Proust

  Knowing, People, Sensual

  Marcel Proust (2003). “In Search of Lost Time: The Way by Swann's”, p.369, Penguin UK

• There is in this world in which everything wears out, everything perishes, one thing that crumbles into dust, that destroys itself still more completely, leaving behind still fewer traces of itself than Beauty: namely Grief.

  Marcel Proust

  Grief, Dust, Leaving

  Marcel Proust (2016). “In Search of Lost Time: Or “Á la Recherche du temps perdu””, p.2508, Jester House Publishing

• We were resigned to suffering, thinking that we loved outside ourselves, and we perceive that our love is a function of our sorrow, that our love perhaps is our sorrow.

  Marcel Proust

  Love Is, Thinking, Suffering

  Marcel Proust (2016). “In Search of Lost Time: Or “Á la Recherche du temps perdu””, p.1981, Jester House Publishing

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