"The beautiful things we shall write if we have talent are inside us,
indistinct, like the memory of a melody which delights us though we
are unable to recapture its outline. Those who are obsessed by this
blurred memory of truths they have never known are the men who are
gifted... Talent is like a sort of memory which will enable them
finally to bring this indistinct music closer to them, to hear it
clearly, to note it down..." --Marcel Proust in "Against Sainte-Beuve:"