"Knowing you have something good to read before bed is among the most pleasurable of sensations."
"I was the shadow of the waxwing slain By the false azure in the windowpane; I was the smudge of ashen fluff -and I Lived on, flew on, in the reflected sky. And from the inside, too, I'd duplicate Myself, my lamp, an apple on a plate: Uncurtaining the night, I'd let dark glass Hang all the furniture above the grass, And how delightful when a fall of snow Covered my glimpse of lawn and reached up so As to make chair and bed exactly stand Upon that snow, out in that crystal land!"
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Source: Vladimir Nabokov (2017). “Lectures on Literature”, p.6, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
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