No author has created with less emphasis such pathetic characters as Chekhov has.

And this is the only immortality you and i may share, my Lolita.

I shall continue to exist. I may assume other disguises, other forms, but I shall try to exist.

The breaking of a wave cannot explain the whole sea.

I would like to spare the time and effort of hack reviewers and, generally, persons who move their lips when reading.

Discussion in class, which means letting twenty young blockheads and two cocky neurotics discuss something that neither their teacher nor they know.

There was a time in my demented youth When somehow I suspected that the truth About survival after death was known To every human being: I alone Knew nothing, and a great conspiracy Of books and people hid the truth from me.