Curiously enough, one cannot read a book; one can only reread it. A good reader, a major reader, and active and creative reader is a rereader.
But even during this sleep—still, still—his real life showed through too much.
Being a murderer with a sensational but incomplete and unorthodox memory, I cannot tell you, ladies and gentlemen, the exact day which I first knew with certainty that the red convertible was followin...
Before his and Pushkin's advent Russian literature was purblind. What form it perceived was an outline directed by reason: it did not see color for itself but merely used the hackneyed combinations of...
As she began losing track of herself, she thought it proper to inform... them... that what death amounted to was only a more complete assortment of the infinite fractions of solitude.
And I want to rise up, throw my arms open for a vast embrace, address an ample, luminous discourse to the invisible crowds. I would start like this: O rainbow-colored gods. . .
All at once we were madly, clumsily, shamelessly, agonizingly in love with each other; hopelessly, I should add, because that frenzy of mutual possession might have been assuaged only by our actually...
Alas, I was unable to transcend the simple human fact that whatever spiritual solace I might find, whatever lithophanic eternities might be provided for me, nothing could make my Lolita forget the fou...
Actually he was a pessimist, and, like all pessimists, a ridiculously unobservant man.
A wise reader reads the book of genius not with his heart, not so much with his brain, but with his spine. It is there that occurs the telltale tingle even though we must keep a little aloof, a little...
Memory can restore to life everything except smells, although nothing revives the past so completely as a smell that was once associated with it.
El veneno estaba en la herida y la herida permaneció siempre abierta
Why do you think I have ceased caring for you, Lo?-Well, you haven´t kissed me yet, have you?
And yet I shall try again: "they are murdering me!"--all right, all together once more: "they are murdering me!" and again: "murdering"... I want to write this in such a way that you will cover your e...
Some might think that the creativity, imagination, and flights of fancy that give my life meaning are insanity.
Моя тоска по родине лишь своеобразнаягипертрофия тоски по утраченному детству.
That is his head, containing a brain of a different brand than that of the synthetic jellies preserved in the skulls around him
For better or worse, it is the commentator who has the last word.
Do what only a true artist can do ... pounce upon the forgotten butterfly of revelation
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