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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| 191c3bc | Human thought, flying on the trapezes of the star-filled universe, with mathematics stretched beneath, was like an acrobat working with a net but suddenly noticing that in reality there is no net. | philosophy thought | Vladimir Nabokov | |
| 90860fd | I knew--but I did know that I had crossed 700 The border. Everything I loved was lost But no aorta could report regret. A sun of rubber was convulsed and set; And blood-black nothingness began to spin A system of cells interlinked within Cells interlinked within cells interlinked Within one stem. And dreadfully distinct Against the dark, a tall white fountain played. I | Vladimir Nabokov | ||
| dcd6926 | Without any wind blowing, the sheer weight of a raindrop, shining in parasitic luxury on a cordate leaf, caused its tip to dip, and what looked like a globule of quicksilver performed a sudden glissando down the centre vein, and then, having shed its bright load, the relieved leaf unbent. Tip, leaf, dip, relief - the instant it all took to happen seemed to me not so much a fraction of time as a fissure in it, a missed heartbeat, which was r.. | Vladimir Nabokov | ||
| 546d1d8 | No writer in a free country should be expected to bother about the exact demarcation between the sensuous and the sensual; this is preposterous; I can only admire but cannot emulate the accuracy of judgment of those who pose the fair young mammals photographed in magazines where the general neckline is just low enough to provoke a past master's chuckle and just high enough not to make a postmaster frown. | Vladimir Nabokov | ||
| f2b2dfb | a little downy girl still wearing poppies still eating popcorn in the colored gloam where tawny Indians took paid croppers because you stole her from her wax-browed and dignified protector spitting into his heavy-lidded eye ripping his flavid toga and at dawn leaving the hog to roll upon his new discomfort the awfulness of love and violets remorse despair while you took a dull doll to pieces and threw its head away because of all you did be.. | Vladimir Nabokov | ||
| 07ba34a | Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. | passion love obsessive-love lolita obsession | Vladimir Nabokov | |
| e79e303 | By God, I could make myself bring her that economically halved grapefruit, that sugarless breakfast. | Vladimir Nabokov | ||
| 1c252ed | The sky was so heartless and dark, and her body, her head, and particularly those damned thirsty trousers, felt clogged with Oceanus Nox, n,o,x. At every slap and splash of cold wild salt, she heaved with anise-flavored nausea and there was an increasing number, okay, or numbness in her neck and arms. As she began losing track of herself, she thought it proper to inform a series of receding Lucettes -- telling them to pass it on and on in a.. | Vladimir Nabokov | ||
| 57c040d | I really knew nothing about her, blinded as I was by that burning loveliness which replaces everything else and justifies everything | Vladimir Nabokov | ||
| 56364b5 | I discovered there was an endless source of robust enjoyment in trifling with psychiatrists. | therapy psychology | Vladimir Nabokov | |
| 982c197 | I discovered in nature the non utilitarian delights that I sought in art. Both were a form of magic, both were a game of intricate enchantment and deception. | magic moths butterflies | Vladimir Nabokov | |
| 0561dff | There, on the soft sand, a few feet away from our elders, we would sprawl all morning, in a petrified paroxysm of desire, and take advantage of every blessed quirk in space and time to touch each other: her hand, half-hidden in the sand, would creep toward me, its slender brown fingers sleepwalking nearer and nearer; then, her opalescent knee would start on a long cautious journey; sometimes a chance rampart built by younger children grante.. | Vladimir Nabokov | ||
| c6b80f4 | This is, I believe, it: not the crude anguish of physical death but the incomparable pangs of the mysterious mental maneuver needed to pass from one state of being to another. | Vladimir Nabokov | ||
| e22e42a | The use of reason is to justify the obscure desires that move our conduct, impulses, passions, prejudices and follies, and also our fears. | Joseph Conrad | ||
| 10196dc | It was not my strength that wanted nursing, it was my imagination that wanted soothing. | strength nursing recovery | Joseph Conrad | |
| de272c9 | There are more kinds of fools than one can guard against. | Joseph Conrad | ||
| 7e1b5e6 | In the destructive element immerse. | Joseph Conrad | ||
| df9179d | As a general rule, a reputation is built on manner as much as on achievement. | reputation appearances | Joseph Conrad | |
| cd4f6a8 | They were two perfectly insignificant and incapable individuals, whose existence is only rendered possible through the high organization of civilized crowds. Few men realize that their life, the very essence of their character, their capabilities, and their audacities are only the expression of their belief in the safety of their surroundings. The courage, the composure, the confidence, the emotion and principle, every great and every insig.. | Joseph Conrad | ||
| 671f001 | The mysteries of a universe made of drops of fire and clods of mud do not concern us in the least. The fate of humanity condemned ultimately to perish from cold is not worth troubling about. If you take it to heart it becomes an unendurable tragedy. If you believe in improvement you must weep, for the attained perfection must end in cold, darkness and silence. In a dispassionate view the ardour for reform, improvement for virtue, and knowle.. | life | Joseph Conrad | |
| 4ad2760 | Government in general, any government anywhere, is a thing of exquisite comicality to a discerning mind. | Joseph Conrad | ||
| dbd92e5 | You know I hate, detest, and can't bear a lie, not because I am straighter than the rest of us, but simply because it appals me. There is a taint of death, a flavour of mortality in lies -which is exactly what I hate and detest in the world -what I want to forget. It makes me miserable and sick, like biting something rotten would do. Temperament, I suppose. | lies temperament | Joseph Conrad Fehr | |
| d337696 | We return to face our superiors, our kindred, our friends--- those whom we obey, and those whom we love; but even they who have neither, the most free, lonely, irresponsible and bereft of ties, --- even those for whom home holds no dear face, no familiar voice, --- even they have to meet the spirit that dwells within the land, under its sky, in its air, in its valleys, and on its rises, in its fields, in its waters and its tress--- a mute f.. | individuality | Joseph Conrad | |
| 6ad7af4 | The Zangiacomo band was not making music; it was simply murdering silence with a vulgar, ferocious energy. | Joseph Conrad | ||
| 5670a5b | Do you know how I would call the nature of the present economic conditions? I would call it cannibalistic. That's what it is! They are nourishing their greed on the quivering flesh and the warm blood of the people - nothing else. | Joseph Conrad | ||
| d4c5682 | Once I saw Paris Hilton leaving a restaurant in Hollywood and the paparazzi cameras were all over her. It looked so unpleasant. It wasn't because she didn't look sensational - she was that perfect combination of fashionable and slutty - it was because the paparazzi guys were shouting these insanely rude and intrusive questions at her. Like, asking her who she was sleeping with and stuff. I was kind of interested in the answer, so I was glad.. | Mindy Kaling | ||
| f1710b4 | Nobody wants to hear that any aspect of my awesome life is bad. I get that. But there are days, maybe two or three times a year, when I get completely overwhelmed by my job and go to my office, lie on the floor, and cry for ten minutes. Then I think: Mindy, you have literally the best life in the world besides that hot lawyer who married George Clooney. This is what you dreamed about when you were a weird, determined little ten-year-old. Th.. | Mindy Kaling | ||
| dae8f9a | There was silence. No one looked at me. People pretended to be absorbed in their phones. One writer didn't even have a phone, so he just pretended to be absorbed in his hand. | Mindy Kaling | ||
| b05ec2f | We have yet to learn again the forgotten art of gayety. | Nathaniel Hawthorne | ||
| 7e208a5 | Life, within doors, has few pleasanter prospects than a neatly-arranged and well-provisioned breakfast-table. | Nathaniel Hawthorne | ||
| 3acd0dd | His stories are good to hear at night, because we can dream about them asleep; and good in the morning, too, because then we can dream about them awake. (Cowslip) | Nathaniel Hawthorne | ||
| 5bddf32 | The sick in mind, and, perhaps, in body, are rendered more darkly and hopelessly so by the manifold reflection of their disease, mirrored back from all quarters in the deportment of those about them; they are compelled to inhale the poison of their own breath, in infinite repetition. | self-talk | Nathaniel Hawthorne | |
| ae22cbb | Their words were only accidents in the mutual silence. | D. H. Lawrence | ||
| 0944973 | Connie went for walks in the park, and in the woods that joined the park, and enjoyed the solitude and the mystery, kicked the brown leaves of autumn, and picked the primroses of spring. But it was all a dream; or rather it was like the simulacrum of reality. The oak leaves were to her like oak-leaves seen ruffling in a mirror, she herself was a figure somebody had read about, picking primroses that were only shadows or memories, or words. .. | D.H. Lawrence | ||
| d0148e5 | And Miriam also refused to be approached. She was afraid of being set at nought, as by her own brothers. The girl was romantic in her soul. Everywhere was a Walter Scott heroine being loved by men with helmets or with plumes in their caps. She herself was something of a princess turned into a swine-girl in her own imagination. And she was afraid lest this boy, who, nevertheless, looked something like a Walter Scott hero, who could paint and.. | D.H. Lawrence | ||
| 44e6b53 | Have I interrupted a conversation?' she asked. 'No, only a complete silence,' said Birkin. 'Oh,' said Ursula, vaguely, absent. | D.H. Lawrence | ||
| 2e57ead | He felt the devil twisting his tail, and pretended it was the angels smiling on him. | D.H. Lawrence | ||
| 023f0e1 | It's just love," she said cheerfully. "whatever that may be," he replied." | D.H. Lawrence | ||
| e4cd3ff | If only there weren't so many other people in the world,' he said lugubriously. | D. H. Lawrence | ||
| 878be62 | But you don't fuck me cold-heartedly,' she protested. 'I don't want to fuck you at all.' Lady Chatterly's Lover | sex love lady-chatterly-s-lover fuck erotica | D.H. Lawrence | |
| 2f12779 | Democracy in America was never the same as Liberty in Europe. In Europe Liberty was a great life-throb. But in America Democracy was always something anti-life. The greatest democrats, like Abraham Lincoln, had always a sacrificial, self-murdering note in their voices. American Democracy was a form of self-murder, always. Or of murdering somebody else... The love, the democracy, the floundering into lust, is a sort of by-play. The essential.. | murder | D.H. Lawrence | |
| 408ef02 | You have a place in my nature which no one else could fill. You have played a fundamental part in my development. And this grief, which has been like a clod between our two souls, does it not begin to dissipate? Ours is not an everyday affection. As yet, we are mortal, and to live side by side with one another would be dreadful, for somehow, with you I cannot long be trivial, and, you know, to be always beyond this mortal state would be to .. | miriam paul | D.H. Lawrence | |
| 2bee197 | Can you never like things without clutching them as if you wanted to pull the heart out of them? | miriam paul | D.H. Lawrence | |
| 97be764 | I am wild, if you like; but I stayed in my burrow a long, long time, - nibbling your straws and snapping at your fingers, but always just a little out of reach. Until at last I got to trust you so much that one day I ventured out for a minute, - and you threw rocks at me. And I will never come out again. | Nancy Milford |