Marcel Proust Quotes
Every kiss provokes another. Oh, in those earliest days of love how naturally the kisses spring to life! So closely, in their profusion, do they crowd together that lovers would find it as hard to count the kisses exchanged in an hour as to count the flowers in a meadow in May.
Marcel Proust
Quotes to Explore
I grew up in Decatur, Georgia. We had three boys in the household; actually, it felt like four of us. My pops sort of raised my uncle, too. So, it was four boys and, later, a younger sister.
Omari Hardwick
I never called my work an 'art'. It's part of show business, the business of building entertainment.
Walt Disney
Even if I flop, I still qualified for the Games, and that was my goal. My target was to be at an Olympics for the third time with people I like.
Laure Manaudou
While we are examining into everything we sometimes find truth where we least expected it.
Quintilian
It's a funny thing, the less people have to live for, the less nerve they have to risk losing nothing.
Zora Neale Hurston
There's nothing unclassy about being naked, if it's appropriate.
Danica McKellar
I began to be impressed by what made a good book-how you needed to have a sensible story, a plot that developed, with a beginning, a middle, and an end that would tie everything together.
Dorothy Fields
Neither in my private life nor in my writings, have I ever made a secret of being an out-and-out unbeliever.
Sigmund Freud
How could passion run so deep
Had I never thought
That the crime of being born
Blackens all our lot?
William Butler Yeats
I prefer to write about what we refer to as 'the supernatural' versus everyday life. Humans, by themselves, bore me.
Amelia Atwater-Rhodes
Sometimes I think the surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe is that none of it has tried to contact us.
Bill Watterson
Every kiss provokes another. Oh, in those earliest days of love how naturally the kisses spring to life! So closely, in their profusion, do they crowd together that lovers would find it as hard to count the kisses exchanged in an hour as to count the flowers in a meadow in May.
Marcel Proust