Marcel meets Albertine

I'm not sure if I've blipped Proust before. His prose is physically daunting: blocks of text, no chapters, long paragraphs, long, spidery sentences - clauses, clauses and more clauses. But I'm taking the journey and enjoying it a great deal.

I love this, which I read today:

Pleasures are like photographs: in the presence of the person we love, we only take negetives, which we develop later, at home, when we have at our disposal once more our inner dark-room, the door of which it is strictly forbidden to open while others are present.

This is my 150th blip incidentally, to which fact I raise a large glass of wine :)