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I've just been bitten on the neck by a vampire... mosquito. Does that mean that when the night comes I will rise and be annoying?

Vera Nazarian

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Vera Nazarian
Age: 58
Born: 1966
Born: May 25
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Moscow
Russian SFSR
Necks
Annoying
Vampire
Rise
Comes
Mosquito
Night
Bitten
Doe
Mosquitoes
Mean
Neck

More quotes by Vera Nazarian

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It is interesting that we call something good a “dream,” but being called a “dreamer” is somewhat of a putdown. Without dreamers, no dream would ever be given reality, and we would live in a very small and shallow world. If you are a secret dreamer, it’s your time to announce yourself.
Vera Nazarian
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The only way to help your unique literary voice grow and eventually sing like a glorious creature of wonder is to write what you excites you into a creative passion and brings you pure unadulterated joy.
Vera Nazarian
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The world is shaped by two things — stories told and the memories they leave behind.
Vera Nazarian
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The great miraculous bell of translucent ice is suspended in mid-air. It rings to announce endings and beginnings. And it rings because there is fresh promise and wonder in the skies.
Vera Nazarian
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Desire is like fog on a bathroom mirror -- its presence incites you to wipe the mirror, and see yourself clearly again.
Vera Nazarian
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Why does every road eventually narrow into a point at the horizon? Because that's where the point lies.
Vera Nazarian
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I am happy. I have something to accomplish, create, and achieve. I am happy.
Vera Nazarian
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In Lords of Rainbow I start out by taking away color from the world, and in the process show color's vital place in our lives. At least I hope that by the end of the book it's a portion of what the reader comes away with - a sense of how much color perception enriches our lives and how its lack can make our sensory experience incomplete.
Vera Nazarian
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If you have never changed your mind about some fundamental tenet of your belief, if you have never questioned the basics, and if you have no wish to do so, then you are likely ignorant.
Vera Nazarian
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I've always been creative verbally, had a flair, my teachers said - wrote great expository essays in elementary school, scribbled little poems, embraced all writing assignments. And all along I read voraciously - first in Russian and then, after we left the USSR, in English, and even Spanish.
Vera Nazarian
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A boomerang returns back to the person who throws it.
Vera Nazarian
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Frost grows on the window glass, forming whorl patterns of lovely translucent geometry. Breathe on the glass, and you give frost more ammunition. Now it can build castles and cities and whole ice continents with your breath’s vapor. In a few blinks you can almost see the winter fairies moving in . . . But first, you hear the crackle of their wings.
Vera Nazarian
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Thoughts are slippery fish in a cold shallow stream.If you are intent on capturing a worthwhile one, you need to stand very still, focus very hard on somewhere outside yourself, and then simply ignore it until it gets so close that it tickles your ankles.Then, pounce.
Vera Nazarian
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For as long as there's anyone to ask 'Why?' the answer will always be, 'Why not?
Vera Nazarian
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The only thing faster than the speed of thought is the speed of forgetfulness. Good thing we have other people to help us remember.
Vera Nazarian
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Everything I write now might have roots in myths, often disguised,often dissolved into new multi-ethnic myths of my own making.
Vera Nazarian
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I usually focus on the whole group of characters in any given work-in-progress, and as a result they become particularly dear to me as I delve into their innermost motivations and live out their lives.
Vera Nazarian
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Would you like to know your future? If your answer is yes, think again. Not knowing is the greatest life motivator. So enjoy, endure, survive each moment as it comes to you in its proper sequence -- a surprise.
Vera Nazarian
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My brand of fantasy is completely devoid of the traditional notions of magic as ritual. Instead I see the fantastic as a meta-layer of existence beyond the real world.
Vera Nazarian
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Listen to the trees as they sway in the wind. Their leaves are telling secrets. Their bark sings songs of olden days as it grows around the trunks. And their roots give names to all things. Their language has been lost. But not the gestures.
Vera Nazarian