“Poets claim that we recapture for a moment the self that we were long ago when we enter some house or garden in which we used to live in our youth. But these are most hazardous pilgrimages, which end as often in disappointment as in success. It is in ourselves that we should rather seek to find those fixed places, contemporaneous with different years.” – Marcel Proust, The Guermantes Way (trans. Moncrieff and Kilmartin)
Nested
April 13th, 2014 · 2 Comments
Tags: Lit & Crit
2 responses so far ↓
1 Averil Dean // Apr 14, 2014 at 7:31 am
I can’t look at places I’ve lived before. It’s like meeting an old lover, thinking, I was happy with you once…
2 admin // Apr 15, 2014 at 4:13 am
El Paso, Texas, the city where I grew up, and where my parents still live, became more difficult for me to visit as the years went by. The city has changed so much, yet it is haunted for me by the ghosts of all that had gone before.
Leave a Comment