I don't know the date.
"A little tap on the window-pane, as though something had struck it, followed by a plentiful light falling sound, as of grains of sand being sprinkled from a window overhead, gradually spreading, intensifying, acquiring a regular rhythm, becoming fluid, sonorous, musical, immeasurable, universal: it was the rain." -- Marcel Proust
(from Swann's Way)
Keats.
"For a man cannot change, that is to say become another person, while continuing to obey the dictates of the self which he has ceased to be." -- Proust (!)
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