"On the first days, like a piece of music that one will later be mad about, but that one does not yet distinguish, that which I wasto love so much in [Bergotte's] style was not yet clear to me. I could not put down the novel that I was reading, but I thought that I was only interested in the subject, as in the first moments of love when one goes every day to see a woman at some gathering, or some pastime, by the amusements to which one believes to be attracted."
"At first, he savored only the material quality of the sounds secreted by the instruments. And it had already been a great pleasurewhen, beneath the tiny line of the violin, slender, resistant, dense and driving, he noticed the mass of the piano's part seeking to arise in a liquid splashing, polymorphous, undivided, level and clashing like the purple commotion of wave charmed and flattened by the moonlight."
"Then, bringing me the joy we feel when wee see a work by our favorite painter which differs from any other that we know, or if weare led before a painting of which we have until then only seen a pencil sketch, if a musical piece heard only on the piano appears before us clothed in the colors of the orchestra, my grandfather called me the [hawthorn] hedge at Tansonville, saying, "You who are so fond of hawthorns, look at this pink thorn, isn't it lovely?"