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Danh ngôn của Vladimir Nabokov (Sứ mệnh: 6)

I think it is all a matter of love: the more you love a memory, the stronger and stranger it is.
I confess, I do not believe in time.
Life is a great sunrise. I do not see why death should not be an even greater one.
My loathings are simple: stupidity, oppression, crime, cruelty, soft music.
A novelist is, like all mortals, more fully at home on the surface of the present than in the ooze of the past.
Genius is an African who dreams up snow.
Imagination, the supreme delight of the immortal and the immature, should be limited. In order to enjoy life, we should not enjoy it too much.
The breaking of a wave cannot explain the whole sea.
A writer should have the precision of a poet and the imagination of a scientist.
Poetry involves the mysteries of the irrational perceived through rational words.
A work of art has no importance whatever to society. It is only important to the individual.
To play safe, I prefer to accept only one type of power: the power of art over trash, the triumph of magic over the brute.
There is nothing in the world that I loathe more than group activity, that communal bath where the hairy and slippery mix in a multiplication of mediocrity.
Discussion in class, which means letting twenty young blockheads and two cocky neurotics discuss something that neither their teacher nor they know.