None of them was ever more than a thin slice, held between the contiguous impressions that composed our life at that time; the memory of a particular image is but regret for a particular moment; and houses, roads, avenues are as fugitive, alas, as the years.
Posted by sheilaRemembrance of Things Past: Swann's Way II-Proust
Posted by: mina3727 at November 9, 2004 6:19 PMYes!
I was waiting for my Dad to show up and guess that one, since he just finished the book ... but you are correct!!
Posted by: red at November 9, 2004 6:23 PM