آموخت که آدم به غیبت عادت می­کند و این عادت به نبودن عزیزان از نبودنشان ناگوارتر است. - Marcel Proust

Only that issues from ourselves which we ourselves extract from the darkness within ourselves and which is unknown to others.

So we don't believe that life is beautiful because we don't recall it but if we get a whiff of a long-forgotten smell we are suddenly intoxicated and similarly we think we no longer love the dead because we don't remember them but if by chance we come across an old glove we burst into tears.

In his younger days a man dreams of possessing the heart of the woman whom he loves; later, the feeling that he possesses the heart of a woman may be enough to make him fall in love with her.