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Quote by Alain de Botton

“We seem incapable of looking at buildings or pieces of furniture without tying them to the historical and personal circumstances of our viewing; as a result, architectural and decorative styles become, for us, emotional souvenirs of the moments and settings in which we came across them.”

Quote by Alain de Botton

Work

The Architecture of Happiness

This book delves into the impact of architectural design on the emotional and psychological state of individuals, discussing how buildings and spaces can influence happiness and quality of life. more

Author

Alain de Botton
Alain de Botton

Alain de Botton is a Swiss writer and philosopher known for his books on philosophy, art, and culture. His work is characterized by its accessible exploration of profound themes, which has won him a wide audience. more

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“Whether he talked or not made little difference to my mood. My only enemy was the clock on the dashboard, whose hands would move relentlessly to one o'clock. We drove east, we drove west, amidst the myriad villages that cling like limpets to the Mediterranean shore, and today I remember none of them. All I remember is the feel of the leather seats, the texture of the map upon my knee, its frayed edges, its worn seams, and how one day, looking at the clock, I thought to myself, 'This moment now, at twenty past eleven, this must never be lost, ' and I shut my eyes to make the experience more lasting. When I opened my eyes we were by a bend in the road, and a peasant girl in a black shawl waved to us; I can see her now, her dusty skirt, her gleaming, friendly smile, and in a second we had passed the bend and could see her no more. Already she belonged to the past, she was only a memory. I wanted to go back again, to recapture the moment that had gone, and then it came to me that if we did it would not be the same, even the sun would be changed in the sky, casting another shadow, and the peasant girl would trudge past us along the road in a different way, not waving this time, perhaps not even seeing us. There was something chilling in the thought, something a little melancholy, and looking at the clock I saw that five more minutes had gone by. Soon we would have reached our time limit, and must return to the hotel. 'If only there could be an invention', I said impulsively, 'that bottled up a memory, like scent. And it never faded, and it never got stale. And then, when one wanted it, the bottle could be uncorked, and it would be like living the moment all over again." (Rebecca, chapter five)”

“C’est étrange, se disait-il, que l’on aime les gens, qu’ils disparaissent, et que l’on continue à les aimer, mais dans sa tête, pour soi, sans le leur dire. Comme si le fait de ne plus être en contact n’enlevait rien à leur présence.”

“« C’est ainsi qu’elle m’a donné le change. Sa pensée accompagnait partout la mienne. J’admirais son goût, sa curiosité, sa culture et je ne savais pas que ce n’était que par amour pour moi qu’elle s’intéressait si passionnément à tout ce dont elle me voyait m’éprendre. Car elle ne savait rien découvrir. Chacune de ses admirations, je le comprends aujourd’hui n’était pour elle qu’un lit de repos où allonger sa pensée contre la mienne ; rien ne répondait en ceci à l’exigence pro-fonde de sa nature. “Je ne m’ornais et ne me parais que pour toi”, dira-t-elle. Préci-sément j’aurais voulu que ce ne fût que pour elle et qu’elle cédât, ce faisant, à quelque intime besoin personnel. Mais de tout cela, qu’elle ajoutait à elle pour moi, rien ne restera, pas même un regret, pas même le sentiment d’un manque. Un jour vient où l’être vrai reparaît, que le temps lentement déshabille de tous ses vête-ments d’emprunt ; et, si c’est de ces ornements que l’autre est épris, il ne presse plus contre son cœur qu’une parure déshabitée, qu’un souvenir… que du deuil et du désespoir. « Ah ! de combien de vertus, de combien de perfections l’ai-je ornée !”