Vladimir Nabokov Quotes
I could isolate, consciously, little. Everything seemed blurred, yellow-clouded, yielding nothing tangible. Her inept acrostics, maudlin evasions, theopathies - every recollection formed ripples of mysterious meaning. Everything seemed yellowly blurred, illusive, lost.
Vladimir Nabokov
Quotes to Explore
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Three publishers came to me at the White House after George lost and said, 'We would like to publish your book.' I said, 'Well, I don't have a book,' and they said well it's a well known fact that you have kept diaries.
Barbara Bush
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Whatever I'm doing, I'm in that moment and I'm doing it. The rest of the world's lost. If I'm cooking some food or making soup, I want it to be lovely. If not, what's the point of doing it?
Sade Adu
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I became a people-watcher when I lost all my friends when I was 12.
Taylor Swift
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Once a landscape is industrialized, its wild character is lost for good. You can't recreate untouched tundra, mountain meadows, crystal clear streams, and animals that have never encountered toxic waste.
Frances Beinecke
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War, I have always said, forces men to change their standards, regardless of whether their country has won or lost.
Salvatore Quasimodo
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I like to write about love and love lost because I feel like there are so many different subcategories of emotions that you can possibly delve into.
Taylor Swift
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Once he had been so formidable that he was surrounded by enemies. Now even his enemies has lost interest in him. What clearer sign of failure could you find than that?
Orson Scott Card
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It is not your strength and your natural power that subjects all these people to you. Do not pretend then to rule them by force or to treat them with harshness. Satisfy their reasonable desires; alleviate their necessities; let your pleasure consist in being beneficent; advance them as much as you can, and you will act like the true king of desire.
Blaise Pascal
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I don't like feeling stuck, like I'm not going anywhere.
Ana de Armas
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Fiction Appeals to the base lusts that hide in everyone no matter how respectable on the surface.
Philip K. Dick
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I could isolate, consciously, little. Everything seemed blurred, yellow-clouded, yielding nothing tangible. Her inept acrostics, maudlin evasions, theopathies - every recollection formed ripples of mysterious meaning. Everything seemed yellowly blurred, illusive, lost.
Vladimir Nabokov