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"I liked, as I like still, to make words look self-conscious and foolish, to bind them by mock marriage of a pun, to turn them inside out, to come upon them unawares. What is this jest in majesty? This ass in passion? How do god and devil combine to form a live dog?"
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"All our words from loose using have lost their edge."
"The finest language is mostly made up of simple unimposing words."
"English is not merely a language anymore, it has become a way of life for millions of non-native English speakers around the world."
"Thou shalt not use the 140 characters limit as an excuse for bad grammar and/or incorrect spelling."
"We suffer from the malady of words, and have no trust in any feeling that is not stamped with its special word."
"We, Brandy and Alfa and me, we've been speaking English as a second language so long that we've forgotten it as our first.I have no native tongue."
"All speech, written or spoken, is a dead language, until it finds a willing and prepared hearer."
Explore more quotes by Vladimir Nabokov
"I would like to spare the time and effort of hack reviewers and, generally, persons who move their lips when reading."
"A novelist is, like all mortals, more fully at home on the surface of the present than in the ooze of the past."
"Aunt Rosa, a fussy, angular, wild-eyed old lady, who had lived in a tremulous world of bad news, bankruptcies, train accidents, cancerous growths-until the Germans put her to death, together with all the people she had worried about."
"It's a pity one can't imagine what one can't compare to anything. Genius is an African who dreams up snow."
"My darling, what a cat they have! Something perfectly stupendous. Siamese, in colour dark beige, or taupe, with chocolate paws and the tail the same. Moreover, his tail is comparatively short, so his croup has something of a little dog, or rather, a kangaroo, and that's its colour, too. And that special silkiness of short fur, and some very tender white tints on its folds, and wonderful clear-blue eyes, turning transparently green towards evening, and a pensive tenderness of its walk, a sort of heavenly circumspection of movement. An amazing, sacred animal, and so quiet " it's unclear what he is looking at with those eyes filled to the brim with sapphire water."
"On such sunny, sad mornings I always feel in my bones that there is a chance yet of my not being excluded from Heaven, and that salvation may be granted to me despite the frozen mud and horror in my heart."
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