All colors made me happy: even gray. My eyes were such that literally they Took photographs.
Vladimir NabokovLiterature, real literature, must not be gulped down like some potion which may be good for the heart or good for the brainโthe brain, that stomach of the soul. Literature must be taken and broken to bits, pulled apart, squashedโthen its lovely reek will be smelt in the hollow of the palm, it will be munched and rolled upon the tongue with relish; then, and only then, its rare flavor will be appreciated at its true worth and the broken and crushed parts will again come together in your mind and disclose the beauty of a unity to which you have contributed something of your own blood.
Vladimir NabokovA novelist is, like all mortals, more fully at home on the surface of the present than in the ooze of the past.
Vladimir NabokovDostoevky's lack of taste, his monotonous dealings with persons suffering with pre-Freudian complexes, the way he has of wallowing in the tragic misadventures of human dignity - all this is difficult to admire.
Vladimir Nabokov