“You see - the moulded whimsy of a frieze on a portico keeps us from recognizing, sometimes, the symmetry of the whole... You will leave; we'll forget one another; but now and then the name of a street, or a street organ weeping in the twilight, will remind us in a more vivid and more truthful way than thought could… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share
Whatever his secret was, I have learnt one secret too, and namely: that the soul is but a manner of being - not a constant state - that any soul may be yours, if you find and follow its undulations. The hereafter may be the full ability of consciously living in any chosen soul, in any number of souls, all… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share
“I recall certain moments, let us call them icebergs in paradise, when after having had my fill of her –after fabulous, insane… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
“To hold her, to keep her -- just as she was -- with her cruelty, with her vulgarity, with her blinding blue… — Vladimir Nabokov Copy Share Image
“That human life is but a first installment of the serial soul and that one's individual secret is not lost in the… — 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
