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“and when nobody wakes you up in the morning, and when nobody waits for you at night, and when you can do whatever you want. what do you call it, freedom or loneliness?”
― Milan Kundera

“Because ignorance, as I’d got tired of hearing, is no excuse for evil.”
― Mo Hayder, The Devil of Nanking

“Don’t ever try to change her,�� my mother said, before she died. ‘The tusks of an elephant will never grow out of a dog’s mouth. You know that.”
― Mo Hayder, The Devil of Nanking

“Sometimes people forget to be sympathetic and instead they blame you for everything, even for the things you did when you had no idea they were wrong.”
― Mo Hayder, The Devil of Nanking

“I noticed that in Tokyo people didn’t smell. It was funny. I couldn’t smell them, and they didn’t say very much: the trains were packed but it was quite silent, like being jammed into a carriage with a thousand shop-window mannequins.”
― Mo Hayder, Tokio

“I'm not very good at knowing what other people are thinking, but I do know that you can see tragedy, real tragedy, sitting just inside a person's gaze. You can almost always see where a person has been if you look hard enough.”
― Mo Hayder, The Devil of Nanking

“I think it is all a matter of love; the more you love a memory the stronger and stranger it becomes”
― Vladimir Nabokov

“Toska - noun /ˈtō-skə/ - Russian word roughly translated as sadness, melancholia, lugubriousness.

"No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody of something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness. At the lowest level it grades into ennui, boredom.”
― Vladimir Nabokov

“I confess I do not believe in time. I like to fold my magic carpet, after use, in such a way as to superimpose one part of the pattern upon another. Let visitors trip. And the highest enjoyment of timelessness―in a landscape selected at random―is when I stand among rare butterflies and their food plants. This is ecstasy, and behind the ecstasy is something else, which is hard to explain. It is like a momentary vacuum into which rushes all that I love. A sense of oneness with sun and stone. A thrill of gratitude to whom it may concern―to the contrapuntal genius of human fate or to tender ghosts humoring a lucky mortal.”
― Vladimir Nabokov

“We live not only in a world of thoughts, but also in a world of things. Words without experience are meaningless.”
― Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita

“All colors made me happy: even gray.
My eyes were such that literally they
Took photographs. ”
― Vladimir Nabokov, Pale Fire

“It is late now, I am a bit tired; the sky is irritated by stars. And I love you, I love you, I love you �� and perhaps this is how the whole enormous world, shining all over, can be created �� out of five vowels and three consonants.”
― Vladimir Nabokov, Letters to Vera

“Solitude is the playfield of Satan.”
― Vladimir Nabokov, Pale Fire

“Life with you was lovely—and when I say lovely, I mean doves and lilies, and velvet, and that soft pink ‘v�� in the middle and the way your tongue curved up to the long, lingering ‘l.�� Our life together was alliterative, and when I think of all the little things which will die, now that we cannot share them, I feel as if we were dead too.”
― Vladimir Nabokov

“Come and be worshiped, come and be caressed, 270  My dark Vanessa, crimson-barred, my blest
My Admirable butterfly! Explain
How could you, in the gloam of Lilac Lane,
Have let uncouth, hysterical John Shade
Blubber your face, and ear, and shoulder blade?”
― Vladimir Nabokov, Pale Fire

“I am a very boring and unpleasant man, drowned in literature... But I love you.”
― Vladimir Nabokov, Letters to Vera