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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.
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
Seems
Name
Poodles
Young
Probably
Daughters
Human
Since
Odd
Humans
Heard
Daughter
People
Names
Responsible
Fact
Female
Given
Beings
Facts
Seem
Lolita
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A change of environment is the traditional fallacy upon which doomed loves, and lungs, rely.
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I was also supposed to quiz my various companions on a number of important matters such as nostalgia, fear of unknown animals, food fantasies, nocturnal emissions, hobbies, choice of radio program, changes in out look and so forth.
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Nostalgia in reverse, the longing for yet another strange land, grew especially strong in spring.
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How small the cosmos (a kangaroo's pouch would hold it), how paltry and puny in comparison to human consciousness, to a single individual recollection, and its expression in words!
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I think she always nursed a small mad hope.
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My God died young. Theolatry i found Degrading, and its premises, unsound. No free man needs God but was I free?
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Age indomitably, in the European manner. Do not finish your labours young. Be a planet, not a meteor. Honor the working day. Sit at your desk.
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...All my best words are deserters and do not answer the trumpet call, and the remainder are cripples.
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A thousand years ago five minutes were Equal to forty ounces of fine sand. Outstare the stars. Infinite foretime and Infinite aftertime: above your head They close like giant wings, and you are dead.
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Occasionally, in the middle of a conversation her name would be mentioned, and she would run down the steps of a chance sentence, without turning her head.
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All great novels are great fairy tales.
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And yet I am happy. Yes, happy. I swear. I swear that I am happy...What does it matter that I am a bit cheap, a bit foul, and that no one appreciates all the remarkable things about me-my fantasy, my erudition, my literary gift...I am happy that I can gaze at myself, for any man is absorbing-yes, really absorbing! ... I am happy-yes, happy!
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The cradle rocks above an abyss, and common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness.
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The lost glove is happy.
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I shall continue to exist. I may assume other disguises, other forms, but I shall try to exist.
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I need you, the reader, to imagine us, for we don't really exist if you don't.
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And the rest is rust and stardust.
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There is nothing more atrociously cruel than an adored child.
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Do not be angry with the rain it simply does not know how to fall upwards.
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The breaking of a wave cannot explain the whole sea.
Vladimir Nabokov
