Swann's Way by Marcel Proust: The most Proustian of all situations are those moments when you suddenly wake up in bed, in a dark room, wondering what time is is. In Proust, your death bed can just as easily become your childhood bed, and vice versa. Memory is endless.
(from volume 2, but I love this passage) “When the soul of a man inclines toward the dreamy, he musn't be kept away from it, he musn't have it rationed. If you keep your mind off it, your mind will never know what's in it. And you'll be the plaything of all sorts of appearances, because you'll never have managed to understand the nature of your dreams. If a little dreaming is a dangerous thing, the cure for it is not to dream less, but to dream more, to dream all the time.”
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