Report, if you have a problem with this page“ As though on a seedling whose blossoms ripen at different times, I had seen in old ladies, on that beach at Balbec, the dried-up seeds and sagging tubers that my girl-friends would become. But, now that it was time for buds to blossom, what did that matter? ”
Marcel Proust
From : In the Shadow of Young Girls in Flower
