" And even, later in the season, those glorious evenings when the sculleries and the girls’ boarding schools, like chapels with their doors ajar and bathed in a golden dust, allow their demi-goddesses to garland the streets and bring their private conversations so close to us that we feverishly desire to penetrate their mythical existence, now recalled nothing more than Albertine’s affections, whose presence by my side prevented me from approaching them. "

― Marcel Proust , La fugitiva