Vladimir Nabokov Quote
This, and much more, she accepted - for after all living did mean acceptingthe loss of one joy after another, not even joys in her case - merepossibilities of improvement. She thought of the endless waves of painthat for some reason or other she and her husband had to endure; of theinvisible giants hurting her boy in some unimaginable fashion; of theincalculable amount of tenderness contained in the world; of the fate ofthis tenderness, which is either crushed, or wasted, or transformed intomadness; of neglected children humming to themselves in unswept corners;of beautiful weeds that cannot hide from the farmer and helplessly have towatch the shadow of his simian stoop leave mangled flowers in its wake, asthe monstrous darkness approaches.
This, and much more, she accepted - for after all living did mean acceptingthe loss of one joy after another, not even joys in her case - merepossibilities of improvement. She thought of the endless waves of painthat for some reason or other she and her husband had to endure; of theinvisible giants hurting her boy in some unimaginable fashion; of theincalculable amount of tenderness contained in the world; of the fate ofthis tenderness, which is either crushed, or wasted, or transformed intomadness; of neglected children humming to themselves in unswept corners;of beautiful weeds that cannot hide from the farmer and helplessly have towatch the shadow of his simian stoop leave mangled flowers in its wake, asthe monstrous darkness approaches.
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