mudwerks reblogged
Vladimir Nabokov, 1959
Existence is a series of footnotes to a vast, obscure, unfinished masterpiece.
mudwerks reblogged
Literature was not born the day when a boy crying wolf, wolf came running out of the Neanderthal valley with a big gray wolf at his heels: literature was born on the day when a boy came crying wolf, wolf and there was no wolf behind him.
Vladimir Nabokov, Lectures on Literature
mudwerks reblogged
lapitiedangereuse
“Human life is but a series of footnotes to a vast obscure unfinished masterpiece” ― Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita
As to Hemingway, I read him for the first time in the early ‘forties, something about bells, balls and bulls, and loathed it.
11. Vladimir Nabokov on Ernest Hemingway (1972)
Source: flavorwire.com
mudwerks reblogged
Vladimir Nabokov por Philippe Halsman
mudwerks reblogged
As far as I can recall, the initial shiver of inspiration was somehow prompted by a newspaper story about an ape in the Jardin des Plantes who, after months of coaxing by a scientist, produced the first drawing ever charcoaled by an animal: this sketch showed the bars of the poor creature’s cage.
Vladimir Nabokov, from “On a Book Entitled Lolita” (via liquidnight)
mudwerks reblogged
iratetreasure-deactivated202310
mudwerks reblogged
Vladir Nabokov por Philippe Halsman
luzfosca
Philippe Halsman
Halsman - A Retrospective
Vladimir Nabokov
The original image was taken by photographer Philippe Halsman in 1968.
link
Thanks to yama-bato
mudwerks reblogged
“My heart was a hysterical unreliable organ.” - Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita, Part Two, Ch. 25
mudwerks reblogged
Or perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the harmony of trifles assembled on this particular day, at this particular moment, in a unique and inimitable way.
Vladimir Nabokov, “The Fight” From The Stories of Vladimir Nabokov (via liquidnight)