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"Surely the Cupid serving him was lefthanded, with a weak chin and no imagination."
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"Perhaps twenty minutes later he realized she had gone to sleep. He quietly removed his now stiff arm, then turned away. It must have woken her a little After a moment he felt her turn as well and lay a hand, instinctively, like a sleeping wife, across his hips; as if, in some dream, he was the one who escaped."
"I chose him. If I chose him, he had to be the right choice. I wouldn't love him if it weren't right."
"Those shiny eyes like the stars in the sky; but black and brown, And those beautiful lips like the flowers but sugary And those kind smells, lovable but with no purpose All meant to be for me? Someone must have been praying and wishing me the whole world."
"It's a known fact, that in life, you can't have everyhing. In my heart, I knew that I loved them both as much as it is possible to love two people at the same time. Conrad and I were linked, we would always be linked. That wasn't something I could do away with. And I know that now--that love isn't something you can erase--no matter how hard you try."
"If you have her mind, you have her for a moment; if you have her heart, you have her for a while; if you have her soul, you have her for a lifetime."
"When love writes a letter, joy is its ink."
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."
"The good, the admirable reader identifies himself not with the boy or the girl in the book, but with the mind that conceived and composed that book."
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