"Knowing you have something good to read before bed is among the most pleasurable of sensations."
About Vladimir Nabokov
Vladimir Nabokov, a prominent Russian-American novelist, is celebrated for his masterful command of language and complex narrative structures. His work often delves into the intricacies of love and the nature of memory, as exemplified in his acclaimed novel 'Lolita'. Nabokov's exploration of these themes reveals a profound understanding of human psychology, particularly how love can intertwine with obsession and moral ambiguity. In 'Lolita', he challenges societal norms and provokes readers to confront uncomfortable truths about desire and its consequences. Nabokov's assertion that 'the only thing that matters is the way we remember' encapsulates his belief in the subjective nature of experience. This perspective is evident in 'Speak, Memory', where he reflects on his own life and the selective nature of recollection. His writing invites readers to consider how memories shape identity and influence our understanding of reality. Today, Nabokov's quotes continue to resonate, offering insights into the complexities of love and the elusive nature of memory. His ability to articulate the contradictions of human emotion remains a powerful influence on literature and thought.
Quote collection
364 quotes — follow a thought to its full quote page.
"Knowing you have something good to read before bed is among the most pleasurable of sensations."
"And the rest is rust and stardust."
"Do not be angry with the rain; it simply does not know how to fall upwards."
"Toska - noun /ˈtō-skə/ - Russian word roughly translated as sadness, melancholia, lugubriousness. "No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody of something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness. At the lowest level it grades into ennui, boredom."
"Mind you, sometimes the angels smoke, hiding it with their sleeves, and when the archangel comes, they throw the cigarettes away: that’s when you get shooting stars."
"Curiosity is insubordination in its purest form."
"Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta."
"The writer's job is to get the main character up a tree, and then once they are up there, throw rocks at them."
"There are aphorisms that, like airplanes, stay up only while they are in motion."
"A certain man once lost a diamond cuff-link in the wide blue sea, and twenty years later, on the exact day, a Friday apparently, he was eating a large fish - but there was no diamond inside. That’s what I like about coincidence."
"I think it is all a matter of love: the more you love a memory, the stronger and stranger it is."
"Loneliness as a situation can be corrected, but as a state of mind it is an incurable illness."
"I have no desires, save the desire to express myself in defiance of all the world’s muteness."
"I loved you. I was a pentapod monster, but I loved you. I was despicable and brutal, and turpid, and everything, mais je t’aimais, je t’aimais!"
"A cluster of stars palely glowed above us, between the silhouettes of long thin leaves; that vibrant sky seemed as naked as she was under her light frock. I saw her face in the sky, strangely distinct, as if it emitted a faint radiance of its own."
"Perhaps, somewhere, some day, at a less miserable time, we may see each other again."
"The breaking of a wave cannot explain the whole sea."
"Let all of life be an unfettered howl. Like the crowd greeting the gladiator. Don't stop to think, don't interrupt the scream, exhale, release life's rapture."
"The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible."
"I was the shadow of the waxwing slain/By the false azure in the windowpane."