I'd like to read all of Proust.

I'm sure Proust was a big bore.

Proust is a huge author for me.

I find it's impossible for me to read Proust.

My life reads more like Proust than a tabloid.

I like the language in Proust but not the context.

A ton of Proust isn’t worth an ounce of Ray Bradbury.

I've read Proust and Stendhal. That keeps you in your place.

You know, the more grown-up you are, the more you like Proust.

I grew up reading Proust all my life, and he's very dear to me.

I haven't read a word of Proust. And I listen obsessively to sports radio.

There's nothing like taking Proust to the beach and daydreaming along to it.

The novel as we knew it in the nineteenth century was killed off by Proust and Joyce.

Narrative art, the novel, from Murasaki to Proust, has produced great works of poetry.

I identify myself as what I am. I'm half Jewish, like Proust. I have no other way to put it.

There was a moment when designers draped in ermine would be reading Proust, or pretending to.

Proust was the greatest novelist of the twentieth century, just as Tolstoy was in the nineteenth.

I have depth. I've read Proust. No, wait, that was Pooh. Winnie the Pooh. My bad" Charley Davidson.

A businessman who reads Business Week is lost to fame. One who reads Proust is marked for greatness.

When Proust urges us to evaluate the world properly, he repeatedly reminds us of the value of modest scenes.

It is Proust's courtesy to spare the reader the embarrassment of believing himself cleverer than the author.

I admire Turgenev, Camus, Proust and Shakespeare, but I've also learnt a lot about writing from composers and artists.

Nothing would have shocked Proust more than to hear that his work was perceived as difficult or inaccessibly rarefied.

My mother was right: When you've got nothing left, all you can do is get into silk underwear and start reading Proust.

Sometimes I wish I could go back through time to meet Proust, just so I could give him my asthma inhaler. The poor guy.

Friendship, according to Proust, is the negation of that irremediable solitude to which every human being is condemned.

A novelist who ranks with Proust , Kafka , Musil and his friend James Joyce as one of the enduring pillars of Modernism.

After Proust, there are certain things that simply cannot be done again. He marks off for you the boundaries of your talent.

To me, the idea of living this lifestyle is so boring that I would prefer to read Marcel Proust the whole time during a tour.

Continue reading Proust. His magnificent intelligence is particularly fond of describing stupidity. Which is ultimately exhausting.

Proust, more perspicaciously than any other writer, reminds us that the 'walks' of childhood form the raw material of our intelligence.

I didn't go to university; I hardly went to school, but I grew up among people well versed in Henry James and Proust, and just felt this endless, total inadequacy.

I'm sick of the foodies who need every morsel that goes into their mouth to be a Picasso painting, a Giacometti sculpture, a Proust novel, evoking the world with each crumb.

If what Proust says is true, that happiness is the absence of fever, then I will never know happiness. For I am possessed by a fever for knowledge, experience, and creation.

In a country like France, so ancient, their history is full of outstanding people, so they carry a heavy weight on their back. Who could write in French after Proust or Flaubert?

You have two types of writers: one like Proust who was locked in his room and wrote the masterpiece. And the other type was Hemingway who celebrated life and also wrote a masterpiece.

Proust's 'In Search of Lost Time,' especially 'Time Regained,' made me think differently about what the novel is and can do. Then I forgot about it, then reread it and remembered again.

Homer, Vergil, Dante, Shakespeare, Goethe, Proust - not exactly authors one expects to whiz through or take lightly, but like all works of genius, they are meant to be read out loud and loved.

With Eric Rohmer - as with Mozart, Austen, James, and Proust - we need to remember that art is seldom about life, or not quite about life. Art is about discovery and design and reasoning with chaos.

It is Proust's implacable honesty, his reluctance to cut corners or to articulate what might have been good enough or credible enough in any other writer that make him the introspective genius he is.

I love long sentences. My big heroes of fiction writing are Henry James and Proust - people who recognise that life doesn't consist of declarative statements, but rather modifications, qualifications and feelings.

As far as I can see, the best writers in the last two hundred years have been Whitman, Rilke, Proust, Kafka. Their best works: 'Leaves of Grass - 1855;' 'Duino Elegies;' 'The Captive & The Fugitive;' 'The Castle.'

In 1997, Alain de Botton published his book 'How Proust Can Change Your Life.' I was charmed by it. I remember using it in a course on cultural criticism for a graduate class that had a mix of theorists and creative writers.

I started writing the one-sentence stories when I was translating 'Swann's Way.' There were two reasons. I had almost no time to do my own writing, but didn't want to stop. And it was a reaction to Proust's very long sentences.

French schools follow a national curriculum that includes arduous surveys of French philosophy and literature. Frenchmen then spend the rest of their lives quoting Proust to one another, with hardly anyone else catching the references.

Proust is a hero of mine. I read 'A la recherche' in one go, and I'm a very slow reader. It had an astonishing impact, reading it on my own and being my main company. I think Proust is the most intelligent person to ever have written a novel.

In the spirit of Julian Barnes's Flaubert's Parrot and Alain de Botton's How Proust Can Change Your Life, Mr. Dyer's Out of Sheer Rage keeps circling its subject in widening loops and then darting at it when you least expect it . . . a wild book.

Marcel Proust shut out visitors from his cork-lined room, where he wrote, but he probably expected to be immortalized in the literary canon. Even the most introverted drives and motives are set in a social context and amplified by the potential for achieving fame.

If I hadn't read all of Jane Austen and DH Lawrence, Tolstoy and Proust, as well as the more fun stuff, I wouldn't know how to break bad news, how to sympathise, how to be a friend or a lover, because I wouldn't have any idea what was going on in anybody else's mind.

I wonder what Proust would have made of our present-day locus of collective fantasy, the Internet. I’m guessing he would have seized on its wistful aspect, pointing out gently and with wry humor that much of what beguiles us is the act of reaching for what isn’t there.

Share This Page