It comes so soon, the moment when there is nothing left to wait for… — Marcel Proust, In Search of Lost Time, Volume One: Swann’s Way (via liquidnight)
Or perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the harmony of trifles assembled on this particular day, at this particular moment, in a unique and inimitable way. — Vladimir Nabokov, “The Fight”
From The Stories of Vladimir Nabokov (via liquidnight)