Bookmarker is a personal project by @dellsystem to help with retaining reading material. Source on GitHub.

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10 months, 1 week ago

a share in an unknown life

[...] The belief that a person has a share in an unknown life to which his or her love may win us admission is, of all the prerequisites of love, the one which it values most highly and which makes it set little store by all the rest. Even those women who claim to judge a man by his looks alone, se…

—p.139 Swann’s Way SWANN’S WAY (1) by Marcel Proust
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10 months, 1 week ago

he had dismissed the balls

[...] But now I found myself slightly shocked by this attitude of Swann’s. He appeared unwilling even to risk having an opinion, and to be at his ease only when he could furnish, with meticulous accuracy, some precise detail. But did he not realise that to postulate that the accuracy of his informa…

—p.136 SWANN’S WAY (1) by Marcel Proust
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10 months, 1 week ago

I live so resolutely apart from physical contingencies

These little eccentricities on my grandfather’s part implied no ill-will whatsoever towards my friends. But Bloch had displeased my family for other reasons. He had begun by irritating my father, who, seeing him come in with wet clothes, had asked him with keen interest:

“Why, M. Bloch, is there…

—p.126 SWANN’S WAY (1) by Marcel Proust
You added a note
10 months, 1 week ago

I live so resolutely apart from physical contingencies

These little eccentricities on my grandfather’s part implied no ill-will whatsoever towards my friends. But Bloch had displeased my family for other reasons. He had begun by irritating my father, who, seeing him come in with wet clothes, had asked him with keen interest:

“Why, M. Bloch, is there…

—p.126 SWANN’S WAY (1) by Marcel Proust
You added a note
10 months, 1 week ago

the taste of the tea and the cake

[...] She sent for one of those squat, plump little cakes called “petites madeleines,” which look as though they had been moulded in the fluted valve of a scallop shell. And soon, mechanically, dispirited after a dreary day with the prospect of a depressing morrow, I raised to my lips a spoonful of…

—p.60 SWANN’S WAY (1) by Marcel Proust