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I have never seen a more lucid, more lonely, better balanced mad mind than mine.
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
Mind
Lucid
Never
Balanced
Mad
Lonely
Mines
Mine
Seen
Better
More quotes by Vladimir Nabokov
And this is the only immortality you and i may share, my Lolita.
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Use unlikely materials. Who would choose Pnin as hero, but how did we live before Pnin?
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A change of environment is the traditional fallacy upon which doomed loves, and lungs, rely.
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There is the first satisfaction of arranging it on a bit of paper after many, many false tries, false moves, finally you have the sentence you recognize as the one you are looking for.
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A toothache will cost a battle, a drizzle cancel an insurrection.
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Derivative writers seem versatile because they imitate many others, past and present. Artistic originality has only itself to copy.
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All my stories are webs of style and none seems at first blush to contain much kinetic matter.
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All the information I have about myself is from forged documents.
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When I try to analyze my own cravings, motives, actions and so forth, I surrender to a sort of retrospective imagination which feeds the analytic faculty with boundless alternatives and which causes each visualized route to fork and re-fork without end in the maddeningly complex prospect of my past.
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I mean, I have the feeling that something in my mind is poisoning everything else.
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...and the red sun of desire and decision (the two things that create a live world) rose higher and higher, while upon a succession of balconies a succession of libertines, sparkling glass in hand, toasted the bliss of past and future nights.
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All colors made me happy: even gray. My eyes were such that literally they Took photographs.
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The breaking of a wave cannot explain the whole sea.
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Happy is the novelist who manages to preserve an actual love letter that he received when he was young within a work of fiction, embedded in it like a clean bullet in flabby flesh and quite secure there, among spurious lives.
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To play safe, I prefer to accept only one type of power: the power of art over trash, the triumph of magic over the brute.
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There he stood, in the camouflage of sun and shade, disfigured by them and masked by his own nakedness.
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I see again my schoolroom in Vyra, the blue roses of the wallpaper, the open window.… Everything is as it should be, nothing will ever change, nobody will ever die.
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Curiosity is insubordination in its purest form.
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... my mind lay limp in an empty world.
Vladimir Nabokov
Readers are not sheep, and not every pen tempts them.
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