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“Each of our friends has his defects so markedly that to continue to love him we are obliged to seek consolation for those defects -- in the thought of his talent, his goodness, his affection for ourself -- or rather to leave them out of account, and for that we need to display all our good will. Unfortunately our obliging obstinacy in refusing to see the defect in our friend is surpassed by the obstinacy with which he persists in that defect, from his own blindness to it or the blindness that he attributes to other people. For he does not notice it himself, or imagines that it is not noticed.” — Marcel Proust (Translator: C K Scott Moncrieff)
Each of our friends has his defects so markedly that to continue to love him we are obliged to seek consolation for those defects -- in the thought of his talent, his goodness, his affection for ourself -- or rather to leave them out of account, and for that we need to display all our good will. Unfortunately our obliging obstinacy in refusing to see the defect in our friend is surpassed by the obstinacy with which he persists in that defect, from his own blindness to it or the blindness that he attributes to other people. For he does not notice it himself, or imagines that it is not noticed.