Yet another interesting quotation for perhaps someone to tackle and to deal with in their readings of Proust:
From Chaucer to Marcel Proust, the novel's substance is the unrepeatable, the singular flavour of souls; for Buddhism there is no such flavour, or it is one of the many vanities of the cosmic simulacrum. Christ preached so that men would have life, and have it in abundance (John 10:10); the Buddha, to proclaim that this world, infinite in time and in space, is a dwindling fire. (Personality and the Buddha, 350)
It seems that I am just collecting quotations that are later posted on the blog, but this seems to be an interesting task insofar as we can begin -- or at least I can -- the reach of Proust.
J.A.
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