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Marcel Proust

"I could no longer desire physically without feeling a need for her, without suffering from her absence."

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"I could no longer desire physically without feeling a need for her, without suffering from her absence."

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Amber Hurdle

"Her skin smelled like the twilight moon and her eyes looked primal, like a hungry animal. She was darkness " dangerous, beautiful darkness."

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Amber Hurdle

"I often think I can see it in myself and in other young writers, this desperate desire to please coupled with a kind of hostility to the reader."

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Amber Hurdle

"I want to drink from you're life force."

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Amber Hurdle

"They ask - "How much money is too much money?"The answer always is - "A little more!"

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Amber Hurdle

"Success is like the most beautiful woman: pursued by many, loved by all, feared by few, courted by the patient and hardworking, and won over by good judgment."

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Amber Hurdle

"Seduction is merely encouraging a man to do something he already wants to do."

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Amber Hurdle

"I've missed you, Sebastian.""Have you, love?" He unfastened the buttons of her robe, the light eyes glittering with heat as her skin was revealed. "What part did you miss the most?""Your mind," she said, and smiled at his expression."I was hoping for a far more depraved answer than that.""Your mind is depraved," she told him solemnly.He gave a husky laugh. "True."

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Amber Hurdle

"I don't want whatever I want. Nobody does. What kind of fun would it be if I just got everything I ever wanted?"

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Amber Hurdle

"Nanny Ogg looked under her bed in case there was a man there. Well, you never knew your luck."

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Amber Hurdle

"What," asked Mr Croup, "do you want?""What," asked the Marquis de Carabas, a little more rhetorically, "does anyone want?""Dead things," suggested Mr Vandemar. "Extra teeth."

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Marcel Proust
"If only for the sake of elegance, I try to remain morally pure."
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"The flowers which played then among the grass, the water which rippled past in the sunshine, the whole landscape which served as environment to their apparition lingers around the memory of them still with its unconscious or unheeding air;..."
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Marcel Proust
"But sometimes it is just when everything seems to be lost that we experience a presentiment that may save us; one has knocked on all the doors which lead nowhere, and then, unwittingly, one pushes against the only one through which one may enter and for which one would have searched in vain for a hundred years, and it opens."
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Marcel Proust
"... the good intentions of a third party are powerless to control a woman who is annoyed to find herself pursued even into a ball-room by a man whom she does not love. Too often, the kind friend comes down again alone."
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Marcel Proust
"The inertia of the mind urges it to slide down the easy slope of imagination, rather than to climb the steep slope of introspection."
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Marcel Proust
"We have such numerous interests in our lives that it is not uncommon, on a single occasion, for the foundations of a happiness that does not yet exist to be laid down alongside the intensification of a grief from which we are still suffering."
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Marcel Proust
"A man who, night after night, falls like a lump of lead upon his bed, and ceases to live until the moment when he wakes and rises, will such a man ever dream of making, I do not say great discoveries, but even minute observations upon sleep? He barely knows that he does sleep. A little insomnia is not without its value in making us appreciate sleep, in throwing a ray of light upon that darkness. A memory without fault is not a very powerful incentive to studying the phenomena of memory."
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Marcel Proust
"He imagined himself lying there, unable to sleep, thinking of his mother, separated from her by the unresponsive blankets tucked too tightly round him, feeling the ceaseless thumping of his heart in the silence of the night, the irrevocability of absence, the rigid stillness of repose, the agony of solitude and sleeplessness. If the room was a prison, the bed was a tomb."
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Marcel Proust
"In the case of the solitary, his seclusion, even when it is absolute and ends only with life itself, has often as its primary cause a disordered love of the crowd, which so far overruled every other feeling that, not being able to win, when he goes out, the admiration of his hall-porter, of the passers-by, of the cabman whom he hails, he prefers not to be seen by them at all, and with that object abandons every activity that would oblige him to go out of doors."
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Marcel Proust
"I dined with Legrandin on the terrace of his house by moonlight. "There is a charming quality, is there not," he said to me, "in this silence; for hearts that are wounded, as mine is, a novelist whom you will read in time to come asserts that there is no remedy but silence and shadow. And you see this, my boy, there comes in all our lives a time, towards which you still have far to go, when the weary eyes can endure but one kind of light, the light which a fine evening like this prepares for us in the stillroom for darkness, when the ears can listen to no music save what the moonlight breathes through the flute of silence."
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