As far back as I can remember myself—and I remember myself with lawless lucidity, I have been my own accomplice, who knows too much, and therefore is dangerous.
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...
And now, said Ada, Van is going to stop being vulgar—Imean, stop forever! Because I had and have and shall alwayshave only one beau, only one beast, only one sorrow, only one joy.
Might it console you to know that I expect nothing but torture from her return? That I regard you as a bird of paradise?She shook her head.- That my admiration for you is painfully strong?- I want Van...
After an early dinner at The Egg and We, a recently inaugurated and not very successful little restaurant which Pnin frequented from sheer sympathy with failure (...)
...I happen to be the kind of author who in starting to work on a book has no purpose than to get rid of that book....
Life is a great sunrise. I do not see why death should not be an even greater one.
Él me destrozó el corazón. Tú apenas me destruiste la vida
[On Du Bois] Celebrated Negro scholar and organizer. 70 years old, but looks 50. Dusky face, grizzled goatee, nice wrinkles, big ears — prodigiously like a White Russian General in mufti played sympat...
[...] wszystko, co budzi zachwyt wywołany wiecznym zbliżaniem się do celu, czeka zagłada.
While endowed with the morose temper of genius, he [Lakes, Arts Professor] lacked originality and was aware of that lack; his own paintings always seemed beautifully clever imitations, although one co...
Whenever in my dreams I see the dead, they always appear silent, bothered, strangely depressed, quite unlike their dear, bright selves. I am aware of them, without any astonishment, in surroundings th...
We think not in words but in shadows of words.
We are most artistically caged.
The mind writes with a pen, the heart, with a pencil.
The elms and the poplars were turning their ruffled backs to a sudden onslaught of wind, and a black thunderhead loomed above Ramsdale's white church tower when I looked around me for the last time.
Stilletos of a frozen stillicide [...] In the lovely line heading this comment the reader should note the last word. My dictionary defines it as 'a succession of drops falling from the eaves, eavesdro...
Solitude was corrupting me.
Nowadays you have to be a scientist if you want to be a killer.
Now I shall spy on beauty as none has Spied on it yet. Now I shall cry out as None has cried out. Now I shall try what none Has tried. Now I shall do what none has done.