Marcel Proust
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Happiness serves hardly any other purpose than to make unhappiness possible.
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Let us leave pretty women to men devoid of imagination.
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Like many intellectuals, he was incapable of saying a simple thing in a simple way.
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Three-quarters of the sicknesses of intelligent people come from their intelligence. They need at least a doctor who can understand this sickness.
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It is in moments of illness that we are compelled to recognize that we live not alone but chained to a creature of a different kingdom, whole worlds apart, who has no knowledge of us and by whom it is impossible to make ourselves understood: our body.