Vladimir Nabokov Quotes - Page 6

• I knew I had fallen in love with Lolita forever; but I also knew she would not be forever Lolita.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Forever, Fallen

  Vladimir Nabokov (2016). “Lolita”, p.35, Hamilton Books

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• I need you, the reader, to imagine us, for we don't really exist if you don't.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Needs, Imagine, Need You

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• 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.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Summer, Memories, Reality

  Vladimir Nabokov (2012). “Speak, Memory: An Autobiography Revisited”, p.57, Penguin UK

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• The spiral is a spiritualized circle. In the spiral form, the circle, uncoiled, has ceased to be vicious; it has been set free.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Circles, Spirals, Form

  Vladimir Vladimirovich Nabokov (1996). “Novels and Memoirs, 1941-1951”, Library of America

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• Beauty plus pity -- that is the closest we can get to a definition of art.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Art, Definitions, Pity

  Vladimir Nabokov (1992). “Pale fire”

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• Debate en clase, lo que significa dejar que veinte jóvenes cabezas huecas y dos neuróticos engreídos discutan sobre algo que ni su profesor ni ellos saben.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Teacher, Mean, Cocky

  Vladimir Nabokov (2011). “Pnin”, p.161, Vintage

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• La literatura y las mariposas son las dos pasiones más dulces que conoce el hombre.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Passion, Butterfly, Men

  "Vladimir Nabokov's butterfly art - in pictures", www.theguardian.com. May 26, 2016.

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• Un escritor debe tener la precisión de un poeta y la imaginación de un científico.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Art, Writing, Should Have

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• ... my mind lay limp in an empty world.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Depression, Mind, World

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• Hay que ser un artista y un loco, una criatura de infinita melancolía, con una burbuja de veneno caliente en las entrañas y una llama supervoluptuosa permanentemente encendida en la sutil columna vertebral (¡oh, cómo hay que encogerse y esconderse!), para discernir en seguida, por signos inefables -el contorno ligeramente felino de un pómulo, la esbeltez de unos miembros velludos y otros índices que la desesperación y la vergüenza y las lágrimas de ternura me prohíben tabular-, al pequeño demonio mortal entre los niños sanos; permanece irreconocible para ellos e inconsciente ella misma de su fantástico poder.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Children, Artist, Flames

  Vladimir Nabokov (2011). “The Annotated Lolita: Revised and Updated”, p.72, Vintage

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• Some might think that the creativity, imagination, and flights of fancy that give my life meaning are insanity.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Inspiración, Creatividad, Pensamiento

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• Don't touch me; I'll die if you touch me.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Touch Me, Dies, Ifs

  "Fictional character: Humbert Humbert". "Lolita", www.imdb.com. 1997.

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• He was powerless because he had no precise desire, and this tortured him because he was vainly seeking something to desire. He could not even make himself stretch out his hand to switch on the light. The simple transition from intention to action seemed an unimaginable miracle.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Simple, Light, Hands

  Vladimir Nabokov (1970). “Mary: A Novel”, Vintage Books

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• Hay algunas variedades de ficción que nunca toco: las historias de misterio, por ejemplo, que aborrezco, y las novelas históricas. También detesto las llamadas novelas "potentes", llenas de obscenidades comunes y torrentes de diálogos.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Powerful, Historical Novels, Fiction

  Vladimir Vladimirovich Nabokov (1973). "Opiniones firmes", McGraw-Hill Companies

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• The day, like the previous days, dragged sluggishly by in a kind of insipid idleness, devoid even of that dreamy expectancy which can make idleness so enchanting.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Bored, Kind, Enchanting

  Vladimir Nabokov (1970). “Mary: A Novel”, Vintage Books

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• Between the wolf in the tall grass and the wolf in the tall story there is a shimmering go-between. That go-between, that prism, is the art of literature.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Art, Writing, Stories

  Vladimir Nabokov (2017). “Lectures on Literature”, p.5, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• Direct interference in a person's life does not enter our scope of activity, nor, on the other, tralatitiously speaking, hand, is his destiny a chain of predeterminate links: some 'future' events may be linked to others, O.K., but all are chimeric, and every cause-and-effect sequence is always a hit-and-miss affair, even if the lunette has actually closed around your neck, and the cretinous crowd holds its breath.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Destiny, Hands, Missing

  Vladimir Vladimirovich Nabokov (1972). “Transparent things: a novel”, McGraw-Hill Companies

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• There is the first satisfaction of arranging it on a bit of paper; after many, many false tries, false moves, finally you have the sentence you recognize as the one you are looking for.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Moving, Writing, Trying

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• Was she really beautiful? Was she at least what they call attractive? She was exasperation, she was torture.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Beautiful, Attractive, Torture

  Vladimir Vladimirovich Nabokov (1996). “Novels, 1969-1974”

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• I should allow only my heart to have imagination; and for the rest rely on memory, that long drawn sunset of one's personal truth.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Memories, Heart, Sunset

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• There is only one real number: one. And love, apparently, is the best exponent of this singularity.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Real, Numbers, And Love

  Vladimir Vladimirovich Nabokov (2008). “The Real Life of Sebastian Knight”, p.113, New Directions Publishing

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• Yo era la sombra del ala de cera muerta por el falso azur en el cristal de la ventana; yo era la mancha de pelusa cenicienta -y seguía viviendo, volando, en el cielo reflejado. Y desde dentro, también, me duplicaba a mí mismo, mi lámpara, una manzana en un plato: Sin tapar la noche, dejaba que el cristal oscuro colgara de todos los muebles sobre la hierba, y ¡qué delicia cuando una nevada cubría mi visión del césped y se extendía hasta hacer que la silla y la cama quedaran exactamente sobre la nieve, en esa tierra de cristal!

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Otoño, Oscuridad, Noche

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• Genius still means to me, in my Russian fastidiousness and pride of phrase, a unique dazzling gift. The gift of James Joyce, and not the talent of Henry James.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Malo, Orgullo, Único

  "What Is the Sangha?: The Nature of Spritual Community" by Sangharakshita, (p. 136), 2001.

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• ...for the human brain can become the best torture house of all those it has invented, established and used in a millions of years, in millions of lands, on millions of howling creatures.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Years, Land, House

  Vladimir Vladimirovich Nabokov (1969). “Ada: or, Ardor, a family chronicle”, McGraw-Hill Companies

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• The rich philistinism emanating from advertisements is due not to their exaggerating (or inventing) the glory of this or that serviceable article but to suggesting that the acme of human happiness is purchasable and that its purchase somehow ennobles the purchaser.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Rich, Glory, Articles

  Vladimir Nabokov (2017). “Lectures on Russian Literature”, p.313, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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