“What surprises you in life? The marvel of consciousness -- that sudden window swinging open on a sunlit landscape amidst the night… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
The summer night was starless and stirless, with distant spasms of silent lightning. — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
He was afraid of touching his own wrist. He never attempted to sleep on his left side, even in those dismal hours… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
Time is rhythm: the insect rhythm of a warm humid night, brain ripple, breathing, the drum in my temple—these are our faithful… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
And really, the reason we think of death in celestial terms is that the visible firmament, especially at night (above our blacked-out… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
...and the red sun of desire and decision (the two things that create a live world) rose higher and higher, while upon… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
I was the shadow of the waxwing slain By the false azure in the windowpane; I was the smudge of ashen fluff… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
We had been everywhere. We had really seen nothing. And I catch myself thinking today that our long journey had only defiled… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
I could also distinguish the glint of a special puddle (the one Krug had somehow perceived through the layer of his own… — 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
