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~ Marcel Proust ... Under the shadow of the girls in the color of ... ~




 

That shrill, suspicious, exacting opinion, what we are looking at a loved one, waiting for a word that will give or take away from us hope for tomorrow's meeting, up to the moment when the word is pronounced, joy and despair, alternately or simultaneously risuyuschiesya our imagination - all scatters our attention when we stand face to face with your loved being and we are not able to keep the memory of its distinctive image.

 

 

Fun - it's like a photo.
What we experience in the presence of a loved one - it's just a negative, we manifest it then, at home, when gain inside a dark room, where the presence of outsiders "not admitted".

 

 

Desire to get close to them I am now able to give a respite, leave it in reserve, along with many others, I put off the execution, once convinced that they are feasible.

 

 

You can get involved in any woman. But in order to give vent to this sadness, this feeling of something irreparable, of the anguish that precedes love, we need - and, perhaps, it is more even than a woman, is the goal to which eagerly seeks our passion - we need a risk is not feasible.

 

 

... After all, love so much eloquence, and indifference have so little curiosity.

We learn of a loved one in strength only suffering what we are because of his experience.

 

... And more often the nature of her usual diabolical cunning adjusts so that just the possession of happiness and destroys the most happiness.

 

 

But, fortunately, it seems, destined to forever elude us. However, not usually in the evening when we had the opportunity to be happy.

 

 

After all, if it is to speak with me on a date, I have, as now, had the presence of mind to say "no," and so, from the failure to failure, I gradually I will go so far as to not seeing her, raskhochu see her. I cried, but did not lose firmness of spirit, I learned the sweetness of sacrifice - sacrifice happiness to be with her - in order to please her then, when - alas! - I will be a matter of indifference, she likes me or not like me.

 

 

Falling in love, you do not spend time on it, to determine what is love - all your efforts are directed to ensure that tomorrow's meeting was held.

 

 

As long as you love, you feel that love is not her name, you feel that love can be revived in the future, but it will be love for another.

 

 

As long as you love, love has no place in our entirety; She radiated to a loved one, ran into its surface, the surface is blocked her way, knocking her to the starting point - that this reflected blow our own passion we call a sense of the other person, and it is this passion that fascinates us more than departure because we do not recognize that it comes from us.