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…She was, obviously, one of those women whose polished words may reflect a book club or bridge club, or any other deadly conventionality, but never her soul.
Vladimir Nabokov
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Vladimir Nabokov
Age: 77 †
Born: 1899
Born: January 1
Died: 1977
Died: January 1
Autobiographer
Chess Composer
Chess Player
Journalist
Lepidopterist
Literary Critic
Novelist
Playwright
Poet
Science Fiction Writer
St. Petersburg
Vladimir Vladimirovich Nabokov
Vladimir Sirin
Vl. Sirin
Wladimir Nabokoff-Sirin
V. Sirin
Whose
Polished
Words
Deadly
Women
Bridge
May
Reflect
Soul
Club
Book
Bridges
Never
Clubs
Obviously
Conventionality
More quotes by Vladimir Nabokov
Let all of life be an unfettered howl.
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Satire is a lesson, parody is a game.
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Although I do not care for the slogan art for art's sake, there can be no question that what makes a work of fiction safe from larvae and rust is not its social importance but its art, only its art.
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All great novels are great fairy tales.
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Look at this tangle of thorns.
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Thus, in pornographic novels, action has to be limited to the copulation of clichés.
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I am thinking of aurochs and angels, the secret of durable pigments, prophetic sonnets, the refuge of art. And this is the only immortality you and I may share, my Lolita.
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Beauty plus pity -- that is the closest we can get to a definition of art.
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Don't touch me I'll die if you touch me.
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Solitude was corrupting me.
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The general impression is that fifteen year-old Dolly remains morbidly uninterested in sexual matters, or to be exact, represses her curiosity in order to save her ignorance and self-dignity.
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I am probably responsible for the odd fact that people don't seem to name their daughters Lolita any more. I have heard of young female poodles being given that name since 1956, but of no human beings.
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I have rewritten — often several times — every word I have ever published. My pencils outlast their erasers.
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Complacency is a state of mind that exists only in retrospective: it has to be shattered before being ascertained.
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A work of art has no importance whatever to society. It is only important to the individual, and only the individual reader is important to me. I don't give a damn for the group, the community, the masses, and so forth.
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All colors made me happy: even gray. My eyes were such that literally they Took photographs.
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Coordinating there Events and objects with remote events And vanished objects. Making ornaments Of accidents and possibilities.
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I still dwelled deep in my elected paradise--a paradise whose skies were the color of hell-flames--but still a paradise.
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Genius is an African who dreams up snow.
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The square root of I is I.
Vladimir Nabokov