One of these passages of Bergotte, the third or fourth which I had detached from the rest, filled me with a joy to which the meagre joy I had tasted in the first passage bore no comparison, a joy which I felt myself to have experienced in some innermost chamber of my soul, deep, undivided, vast, from which all obstructions and partitions seemed to have been swept away.
Izan ere, une hartan irakurtzen ari nintzaiòn pasartean adierazpide arraroekiko bere betiko zaletasun hura antzematen banion ere, bere betiko musika-jariakortasun huraxe, bere betiko filosofia idealista huraxe bera, zeina izana baitzen aurreko aldietan ere, hartaz jabetua ez nintzen arren, nire plazeraren kausa, orduan ordea, bestelako zirrara bat nabaritu nuen ziplo, hauxe: