I still dwelled deep in my elected paradise--a paradise whose skies were the color of hell-flames--but still a paradise.
Vladimir NabokovThere he stood, in the camouflage of sun and shade, disfigured by them and masked by his own nakedness.
Vladimir NabokovThere is nothing in the world that I loathe more than group activity, that communal bath where the hairy and slippery mix in a multiplication of mediocrity.
Vladimir Nabokov