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"His life was a constant war with insensate objects that fell apart, or attacked him, or refused to function, or viciously got themselves lost as soon as they entered the sphere of his existence."
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"She crouched with her hand out. What the hell was she doing, "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty." Oh my God, she was retarded and I was going to kill Jim."
"I was irritated by the way he conflated his own shifting needs with an impersonal destiny. I want it, therefore...it's in the stars!"
"It's always discouraging when you don't have things go your way. They are frustrated just like the rest of us."
"Locals. They'll eventually get out. They're annoyed. Like when Americans go to the lake. And it's closed. 'Cause some kid pooped in the water."
"I didn't know how to go about preparing for the part of someone who can't remember who he is. The frustration angle is written in, but there's also this incredible passive state."
"Off Fuck off... the same story over and over and again and again.. I don't want it!"
"On of the prerequisites for my mobile phone is that I have to be able to fling it at a wall if I lose my temper."
"Oh, Oh my fucking mother she screw ups everything!"
"I'm sorry that your mystical, godlike powers do not instantly work as you would like them to."
Explore more quotes by Vladimir Nabokov
"I see again my schoolroom in Vyra, the blue roses of the wallpaper, the open window. Everything is as it should be, nothing will ever change, nobody will ever die."
"A sense of security, of well-being, of summer warmth pervades my memory. That robust reality makes a ghost of the present. The mirror brims with brightness; a bumblebee has entered the room and bumps against the ceiling. Everything is as it should be, nothing will ever change, nobody will ever die."
"Happy is the novelist who manages to preserve an actual love letter that he received when he was young within a work of fiction, embedded in it like a clean bullet in flabby flesh and quite secure there, among spurious lives."
"Great novels are above all great fairy tales . . . literature does not tell the truth but makes it up."
"But after all we are not children, not illiterate juvenile delinquents, not English public school boys who after a night of homosexual romps have to endure the paradox of reading the Ancients in expurgated versions."
"Lighted advertisements went running up dark red facades and dissipating again. He would pass girls; he would turn to look; but the prettier the face, the harder it was to take the plunge."
"The nostalgia I have been cherishing all these years is a hypertrophied sense of lost childhood, not sorrow for lost banknotes."
"Some might think that the creativity, imagination, and flights of fancy that give my life meaning are insanity."
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