We have years to converse with someone, to blurt and rant, to explain our desires and anger and regrets - and oh how we squander those moments.

Why do we call all our generous ideas illusions, and the mean ones truths?

Discovery is always a rape of the natural world. Always.

One last word are you quite quite ure that - well not tomorrow of course and not after tomorrow but - well - some day any day you will not come to live with me I will create a brand new God and thank him with piercing cries if you give me that microscopic hope.

Written By Vladimir Nabokov

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