nickkahler 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, "On Literature," c. 1970 (via tierradentro)
Source: tierradentro