"Showed a blue that was bluer than blue
And was hardly inferior in blueness
to my present remembrance of it."

Vladimir Nabokov, The Gift

"but suddenly the unpleasant feeling of lateness was replaced in Fyodor’s soul by a distinct and somehow outrageously joyful decision not to appear at all for the lesson-to get off at the next stop and return home to his half read book, to his unworldly cares, to the blissful mist in which his real life floated, to the complex, happy, devout work which had occupied him for a year already[…] Shy exacting, living always uphill, spending all his strength in pursuit of the innumerable beings that flashed inside him, as if at dawn in a mythological grove, he could no longer force himself to mix with people either for money or for pleasure, and therefore he was poor and solitary."

Nabokov, The Gift

"The rain began coming down faster: someone had suddenly tilted the sky."

Nabokov, The Gift

"…all this was perceived by him with agonizing distinctness and then, during the day, was repeated an infinity of times in his head memory, returning ever more lazily, pallidly and jerkily, losing life and dwindling as a result of the automatic repetitions of the distintegrating image to a mere sketch broken and blurred, in which nothing of the original life subsisted; but as soon as he saw her again, all this subconscious work directed at the destruction of her image, whose power he feared more and more, went by the board, and beauty again flared forth-her nearness, her frightening accessibility to his gaze, the reconstituted union of all the details."

Nabokov, The Gift