un exemple plus frappant de la force insensible et puissante qu’ont ces courants de la passion et par lesquels l’amoureux, comme un nageur entraîné sans s’en apercevoir, bien vite perd de vue la terre.
And one not only loses sight of land, but he loses his ground, his standpoint, his self, and one might say, his liberty. The one who is in love (but, in fact, it is not love, what we call love, it is, just as it is said here a passion, almost always and exclusively) is no longer free. And I mean, free to think, free to see. He no longer has his own viewpoint. But as Proust says, or, rather, as I understand it, the viewpoint is what we are and how we perceive the world.
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