If reading Proust is a habit, I've been clean for a week (while on vacation). But I'm going back on the stuff tomorrow morning. For now, a passage that I stashed away last week:
People, even those that we love the most, may, it is true, become saturated by the sadness or irritation that emanates from us. There is one thing, however, capable of a power of exasperation to which no human being will ever attain: a piano.
Marcel Proust, Sodom and Gomorrah, translated by John Sturrock (New York: Penguin, 2002), 187
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