As I Wrote One Day


proustitute:

“I had clung to the hope of a letter from her in the New Year. And seeing that hope exhausted before I had had time to shelter myself behind another, I suffered like an invalid who has emptied his phial of morphia without having another within his reach.”
—Marcel Proust, À l’ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs, trans. Moncrieff and Kilmartin

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