Author of quotes: Vladimir Nabokov. Page 1

My God died young. Worship I found Degrading and the evidence unconvincing. The free don't need God - but was I free?

My desires are very modest. Portraits of the head of state should not exceed the size of a postage stamp.

But is it not strange that the sense of touch, which is infinitely less valued by a person than sight, is not only lost less often, but at critical moments becomes our main, if not the only, criterion of reality.

I dreamed so simply and joyfully:
you stood alone on the porch
and with his hand from the dawn she shielded,
and the dawn is on your face.
Fell easily and rosy
a beam on the dress and a shadow on the threshold,
and in the garden every leaf is radiant
smiled like a little god.
You looked, my dream,
into the depth of the blue alley,
and through foliage reflection
trembled on your neck.
I don't know what all this means.
why did I wake up in tears...
Someone in the heart laughs and cries,
and you stand in the sun in the doorway.

Know that before you sleep you can read a good book - is not the most pleasant of all possible sensations?

I love you more than love. You're my happiness and life. When I think of you, makes me so fun and easy, and as I think of you always, I always easy and fun at heart.

You came into my life - not as come to visit (you know, "his hat"), and come to this Kingdom where all the rivers have waited for your reflection, all the roads of your steps. Fate wanted to correct its mistake - as if she asked me for forgiveness for all its previous deceptions. How can I leave you, my story, my sun? You see, if I were less like you, then I would have to leave. And so - just makes no sense. And die I do not want. There are two kind of "come what may". Weak-willed and strong-willed. Forgive me - but I live the second.

Did you know that you are my happiness? You are all created from small Lancet movements - I love every one of them. Did you think someday about how it's weird how easily our lives came together? It's probably God, bored in heaven, came the solitaire, which comes out not often. I love you and your wonderful intelligence, as if your soul has in advance prepared a place for each of my thoughts.

Kiss you, my love, deeply, to faint, waiting for letters, I love you, moving carefully so as not to break you, ringing in me, so crystal, so entrancing...

... I swear on everything I hold dear, everything I believe, I swear that I love you, I never had love, - with such tenderness - to the point of tears - with such a sense of radiance.

If a violin string can suffer, I have suffered as a string.

The memory of man is short-sighted.

All the future is unknown, but sometimes it gets a special nebula, like on help of the natural stealth of fate comes some other force, the elastic spreading this fog, which bounces the idea.

When you say "lemon" and make the inevitably long face, and when I say "orange" - big smiles.