[S]he stands unrecognized by them and onconscious herself of her fantastic power.
nabokov, lolita, 17
I knew she would […] even close her eyes as Hollywood teaches.
nabokov, lolita, 48
Distant mountains. Near mountains. More mountains; bluish beauties never attainable, or ever turning into inhabited hill after hill […]
nabokov, lolita, 156
[…] how much she looked—had always looked—like Botticelli's russet Venus—
nabokov, lolita, 270
Most likely the letter was doomed simply to lie in a box without consequences. But what matter; I'm sure she would keep it all her life as a treasure, as her pride and justification, and now, at such a moment, she remembered the letter and brought it out to take naive pride before me, to restore herself in my eyes, so that I, too, should see, and I, too, should praise. I said nothing, pressed her hand, and walked out.
dostoyevski, notes from underground, 106
—and I looked and looked at her, and knew as clearly as I know I am to die, that I loved her more than anything I had ever seen or imagined on earth, or hoped for anywhere else.
nabokov, lolita, 277
torture chambers?
god damn!
i haven't heard no shit like that in years!
edan, murder mystery