Vladimir Nabokov
Vladimir Nabokov
Vladimir Vladimirovich Nabokov, also known by the pen name Vladimir Sirin; 22 April 1899c – 2 July 1977) was a Russian-American novelist. His first nine novels were in Russian, and he achieved international prominence after he began writing English prose...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth23 April 1899
CitySaint Petersburg, Russia
CountryUnited States of America
morning school feet
She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita.
love valentines-day sight
It was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight.
sorry real heart
Suddenly for no earthly reason I felt immensely sorry for him and longed to say something real, something with wings and a heart, but the birds I wanted settled on my shoulders and head only later when I was alone and not in need of words.
betrayal sleep humanity
Sleep is the most moronic fraternity in the world, with the heaviest dues and the crudest rituals. It is a mental torture I find debasing... I simply cannot get used to the nightly betrayal of reason, humanity, genius.
perfect mind stranger
Why should I tolerate a perfect stranger at the bedside of my mind?
two light darkness
Life is just one small piece of light between two eternal darknesses.
writing blank-mind feelings
The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible.
friday men blue
A certain man once lost a diamond cuff-link in the wide blue sea, and twenty years later, on the exact day, a Friday apparently, he was eating a large fish - but there was no diamond inside. That’s what I like about coincidence.
mirrors phantoms
For I do not exist: there exist but the thousands of mirrors that reflect me.
truth children eye
Alas! In vain historians pry and probe: The same wind blows, and in the same live robe Truth bends her head to fingers curved cupwise; And with a woman's smile and a child's care Examines something she is holding there Concealed by her own shoulder from our eyes.
loneliness mind illness
Loneliness as a situation can be corrected, but as a state of mind it is an incurable illness.
simple light hands
He was powerless because he had no precise desire, and this tortured him because he was vainly seeking something to desire. He could not even make himself stretch out his hand to switch on the light. The simple transition from intention to action seemed an unimaginable miracle.
monsters i-loved-you brutal
I loved you. I was a pentapod monster, but I loved you. I was despicable and brutal, and turpid, and everything, mais je t’aimais, je t’aimais!
sea wave breaking-promises
The breaking of a wave cannot explain the whole sea.