Marginalia, no.29

It seemed to her that certain portions of the earth must produce happiness – as though it were a plant native only to those soils and doomed to languish elsewhere.

~ Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary

The heart is a nomad.  Emma’s curse was to be forever bewitched by the mirage – to imagine she might finally attain it.  But such happiness, once gained, is only sifted through the fingers like sand.  It appears to be a universal law of human nature that, in Montaigne’s words, “we are never in our true abiding-place; we are always somewhere else.”

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