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It is strange how a memory will grow into a wax figure, how the cherub grows suspiciously prettier as its frame darkens with age-strange, strange are the mishaps of memory.

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
Grow
Darkens
Strange
Suspiciously
Memories
Mishaps
Grows
Prettier
Age
Frame
Memory
Figure
Cherub
Figures
Cherubs

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We loved each other with a premature love, marked by a fierceness that so often destroys adult lives.
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Our best yesterdays are now foul piles of crumpled names.
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I see nothing for the treatment of my misery but the melancholy and very local palliative of articulate art.
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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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All the information I have about myself is from forged documents.
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