More Quotes by Vladimir Nabokov
Our imagination flies -- we are its shadow on the earth.
Oh, let me be mawkish for the nonce! I am so tired of being cynical.
The only real number is one, the rest are mere repetition
Curiosity is insubordination in its purest form.
I have no desires, save the desire to express myself in defiance of all the world’s muteness.
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.
Perhaps, somewhere, some day, at a less miserable time, we may see each other again.
Nostalgia in reverse, the longing for yet another strange land, grew especially strong in spring.
Why should I tolerate a perfect stranger at the bedside of my mind?
The good, the admirable reader identifies himself not with the boy or the girl in the book, but with the mind that conceived and composed that book.
