#Quote
More Quotes by Vladimir Nabokov
Life is a message scribbled in the dark.
For I do not exist: there exist but the thousands of mirrors that reflect me.
And the rest is rust and stardust.
Words without experience are meaningless.
The only real number is one, the rest are mere repetition
Why should I tolerate a perfect stranger at the bedside of my mind?
Life is just one small piece of light between two eternal darknesses.
Genius is finding the invisible link between things.
We think not in words but in shadows of words.
Perhaps, somewhere, some day, at a less miserable time, we may see each other again.
