Lieb­lo­se Abstraktionen

For­get­ting that beau­ty and hap­pi­ness are only ever incar­na­ted in an indi­vi­du­al per­son, we replace them in our minds by a con­ven­tio­nal pat­tern, a sort of avera­ge of all the dif­fe­rent faces we have ever admi­red, all the dif­fe­rent plea­su­res we have ever enjoy­ed, and thus car­ry about with us abs­tract images, which are lifel­ess and unin­spi­ring becau­se they lack the very qua­li­ty that some­thing new, some­thing dif­fe­rent from what is fami­li­ar, always pos­s­es­ses, and which is the qua­li­ty inse­pa­ra­ble from real beau­ty and hap­pi­ness. So we make our pes­si­mi­stic pro­no­unce­ments on life, which we think are valid, in the belief that we have taken account of beau­ty and hap­pi­ness, whe­re­as we have actual­ly omit­ted them from con­side­ra­ti­on, sub­sti­tu­ting for them syn­the­tic com­pounds that con­tain not­hing of them.
(Mar­cel Proust – In the Shadow of Young Girls in Flower)