Why do those people guess so much and shave so little, and are so disdainful of hearing aids? — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
I know more than I can express in words, and the little I can express would not have been expressed, had I… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
Imagine me; I shall not exist if you do not imagine me; try to discern the doe in me, trembling in the… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
Even while writing his book, he had become painfully aware how little he knew his own planet while attempting to piece together… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
Dark pictures, thrones, the stones that pilgrims kiss Poems that take a thousand years to die But ape the immortality of this… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
Although we read with our minds, the seat of artistic delight is between the shoulder blades. That little shiver behind is quite… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
The social or economic structure of the ideal state is of little concern to me. My desires are modest. Portraits of the… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
but that mimosa grove - the haze of stars, the tingle, the flame, the honey-dew, and the ache remained with me, and… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
If he was silent I could be silent too. Indeed, I could very well do with a little rest in this subdued,… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
Life with you was lovely—and when I say lovely, I mean doves and lilies, and velvet, and that soft pink ‘v’ in the middle and the way your tongue curved up to the long, lingering ‘l.’ Our life together was alliterative, and when I think of all the little things which will die, now that we cannot share them, I… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share
I could isolate, consciously, little. Everything seemed blurred, yellow-clouded, yielding nothing tangible. Her inept acrostics, maudlin evasions, theopathies - every recollection formed… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
But that mimosa grove-the haze of stars, the tingle, the flame, the honey-dew, and the ache remained with me, and that little… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
There are two kinds of visual memory: one when you skillfully recreate an image in the laboratory of your mind, with your… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
You have to be an artist and a madman, a creature of infinite melancholy, with a bubble of hot poison in your… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
“...under no circumstances would he [Humbert Humbert] have interfered with the innocence of a child, if there was the least risk of a row.” — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share
The cradle rocks above an abyss, and common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
“Ami azt illeti, Vannak kezdtek nagyon tetszeni a fák is, a csodák is meg az Adák is.” — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
We live not only in a world of thoughts, but also in a world of things. Words without experience are meaningless. — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
“It isn’t possible. I cannot imagine it. Come on over here, you foolish little doe, and tell me on what day I shall die.” — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
“Precautions to be taken in the case Of freak reincarnation: what to do On suddenly discovering that you Are now a young and vulnerable… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
