My only grudge against nature was that I could not turn my Lolita inside out and apply voracious lips to her young matrix, her unknown heart, her nacreous liver, the sea-grapes of her lungs, her comely twin kidneys.
Vladimir NabokovRead
My loathings are simple. stupidity, oppression, crime, cruelty, soft music. My pleasures are the most intense known to man: writing and butterfly hunting.
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote expresses a clear dichotomy between what the author detests and what brings him joy, highlighting a deep appreciation for the beauty of writing and nature.
Vladimir Nabokov's statement articulates his aversion to certain negative aspects of human behavior and culture, such as stupidity and cruelty, juxtaposed with his profound passion for activities like writing and butterfly hunting. This reflects his belief that true pleasures can be found in creativity and the appreciation of delicate beauty in nature, serving as a reminder of the contrasts in our experiences and the choices we make in what to value in life.
Themes
WritingPleasureNatureBeautyOppressionStupidity
In practice
Example use cases
In a speech about the importance of creativity, one might quote Nabokov to emphasize the joy of pursuing passions.
More from Vladimir Nabokov
All quotes βLolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta.
Vladimir NabokovRead
A change of environment is the traditional fallacy upon which doomed loves, and lungs, rely.
Vladimir NabokovRead
But that mimosa grove-the haze of stars, the tingle, the flame, the honey-dew, and the ache remained with me, and that little girl with her seaside limbs and ardent tongue haunted me ever since-until at last, twenty-four years later, I broke her spell by incarnating her in another.
Vladimir NabokovRead
...in my dreams the world would come alive, becoming so captivatingly majestic, free and ethereal, that afterwards it would be oppressive to breathe the dust of this painted life.
Vladimir NabokovRead
I believe the poor fierce-eyed child had figured out that with a mere fifty dollars in her purse she might somehow reach Broadway or Hollywood - or the foul kitchen of a diner (Help Wanted) in a dismal ex-prairie state, with the wind blowing, and the stars blinking, and the cars, and the bars, and the barmen, and everything soiled, torn, dead.
Vladimir NabokovRead
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