942 Quotes by Vladimir Nabokov

And to fulfill the fish wish of the womb, A school of Freudians headed for the tomb.

He began with the day’s copy of The New York Times. His lips moving like wrestling worms, he read about all kinds of things. Hrushchov.

Running in the wind, in the pollen and dust, a flower in flight.

Imagination without knowledge leads no farther than the back yard of primitive art, the child’s scrawl on the fence, and the crank’s message in the market place. Art is never simple.

Paduk and all the rest wrote on steadily, but Krug’s failure was complete, a baffling and hideous disaster, for he had been busy becoming an elderly man instead of learning the simple but now unobtainable passages which they, mere boys, had memorized.

I am just winking happy thoughts into a little tiddle cup.

I tore apart the fantasies of Poe, And dealt with childhood memories of strange Nacreous gleams beyond the adults’ range.

Every limit presupposes something beyond it.

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