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Proust, Marcel, 1871-1922

"Swann's Way"

And presently their outlines and their sunlit surface, as though
they had been a sort of rind, were stripped apart; a little of what they
had concealed from me became apparent; an idea came into my mind which had
not existed for me a moment earlier, framed itself in words in my head;
and the pleasure with which the first sight of them, just now, had filled
me was so much enhanced that, overpowered by a sort of intoxication, I
could no longer think of anything but them. At this point, although we had
now travelled a long way from Martinville, I turned my head and caught
sight of them again, quite black this time, for the sun had meanwhile set.
Every few minutes a turn in the road would sweep them out of sight; then
they shewed themselves for the last time, and so I saw them no more.
Without admitting to myself that what lay buried within the steeples of
Martinville must be something analogous to a charming phrase, since it was
in the form of words which gave me pleasure that it had appeared to me, I
borrowed a pencil and some paper from the Doctor, and composed, in spite
of the jolting of the carriage, to appease my conscience and to satisfy my
enthusiasm, the following little fragment, which I have since discovered,
and now reproduce, with only a slight revision here and there.


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