“ We chase after the reality of a thing. But by the very fact of constantly letting it elude us we end up noticing that, after all the vain attempts which have led to nothing, there is something solid there after all, which is what we have been pursuing. We begin to distinguish, to identify what it is we love, we try to procure it for ourselves, if only by artificial means. ”
 Marcel Proust, The Guermantes Way (1920). copy citation