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And so it is with our own past. It is a labour in vain to attempt to recapture it: all the efforts of our intellect must prove futile. The past is hidden somewhere outside the realm, beyond the reach of intellect, in some material object (in the sensation which that material object will give us) of which we have no inkling. And it depends on chance whether or not we come upon this object before we ourselves must die.
In "Search of Lost Time" by Marcel Proust
Art. 727. h. 78, d 69, l 182, s.h 42 cm
Sofa. Upholstered in fabric or leather. Wood frame, back and seat in foam with Nosag springs. Steel legs with turned wood parts covered with fabric or leather. Legs in matt chrome or coppered. Leatherbelt.
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