And what is death, if not a face at peace - its artistic perfection. Vladimir Nabokov More Quotes by Vladimir Nabokov More Quotes From Vladimir Nabokov 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. Vladimir Nabokov fridaybluemen The breaking of a wave cannot explain the whole sea. Vladimir Nabokov breaking-promiseswavesea Only one letter divides the comic from the cosmic. Vladimir Nabokov cosmiccomicletters There is nothing dictators hate so much as that unassailable, eternally elusive, eternally provoking gleam. One of the main reasons why the very gallant Russian poet Gumilev was put to death by Lenin's ruffians thirty odd years ago was that during the whole ordeal, in the prosecutor's dim office, in the torture house, in the winding corridors that led to the truck, in the truck that took him to the place of execution, and at that place itself, full of the shuffling feet of the clumsy and gloomy shooting squad, the poet kept smiling. Vladimir Nabokov squadhateyears Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. Vladimir Nabokov lightsoulfire I think it is all a matter of love: the more you love a memory, the stronger and stranger it is. Vladimir Nabokov lovememoriesthinking 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! Vladimir Nabokov brutali-loved-youmonsters Literature, real literature, must not be gulped down like some potion which may be good for the heart or good for the brain—the brain, that stomach of the soul. Literature must be taken and broken to bits, pulled apart, squashed—then its lovely reek will be smelt in the hollow of the palm, it will be munched and rolled upon the tongue with relish; then, and only then, its rare flavor will be appreciated at its true worth and the broken and crushed parts will again come together in your mind and disclose the beauty of a unity to which you have contributed something of your own blood. Vladimir Nabokov takenrealheart Some people—and I am one of them—hate happy ends. We feel cheated. Harm is the norm. Doom should not jam. The avalanche stopping in its tracks a few feet above the cowering village behaves not only unnaturally but unethically. Vladimir Nabokov hatefeetpeople It was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight. Vladimir Nabokov valentines-daysightlove The clumsiest literal translation is a thousand times more useful than the prettiest paraphrase. Vladimir Nabokov prettiestparaphrasethousand ...in my dreams the world would come alive, becoming so captivatingly majestic, free and ethereal, that afterwards it would be oppressive to breathe the dust of this painted life. Vladimir Nabokov dustdreamworld As far as I can recall, the initial shiver of inspiration [for Lolita] was somehow prompted by a newspaper story about an ape in the Jardin des Plantes, who, after months of coaxing by a scientist, produced the first drawing ever charcoaled by an animal: this sketch showed the bars of the poor creature's cage. Vladimir Nabokov drawinginspirationanimal To a greater or lesser extent there goes on in every person a struggle between two forces: the longing for privacy and the urge to go places: the introversion, interest directed within oneself toward one's own inner life of vigorous thought and fancy; and extroversion, interest directed outward, toward the external world of people and tangible values. Vladimir Nabokov journeystruggletwo There is an old American saying 'He who lives in a glass house should not try to kill two birds with one stone. Vladimir Nabokov glasseshousetwo 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. Vladimir Nabokov betrayalhumanitysleep Nothing revives the past so completely as a smell that was once associated with it. Vladimir Nabokov smellnaturepast I cannot conceive how anybody in his right mind should go to a psychoanalyst. Vladimir Nabokov shouldmind For I do not exist: there exist but the thousands of mirrors that reflect me. Vladimir Nabokov phantomsmirrors We live not only in a world of thoughts, but also in a world of things. Words without experience are meaningless. Vladimir Nabokov meaninglessworld
