"Proust looked wan, dank and sickly; he died six months later. At least he was conscientiously polite, and set out to ingratiate himself with Stravinsky by praising Beethoven's late quartets. 'I detest Beethoven,' snarled Stravinsky, and turned away. Proust then exchanged formulaic compliments with Joyce, although neither of them had read anything by the other. They were able to agree on the subject of truffles, which they both liked." - "Last supper with Proust"
Global science equity*
19 時間前
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