Letters to Véra

“I won’t hide it: I’m so unused to being — well, understood, perhaps, — so unused to it, that in the very first minutes of our meeting I thought: this is a joke… But then… And there are things that are hard to talk about — you’ll rub off their marvelous pollen at the touch of a word… You are lovely…”

— Vladimir Nabokov, goodreads.com

“I love you, my sun, my life, I love your eyes — closed — all the little tails of your thoughts, your stretchy vowels, your whole soul from head to heels.”

— Vladimir Nabokov, goodreads.com

“I dreamt of you last night – as if I was playing the piano and you were turning the pages for me.”

— Vladimir Nabokov, goodreads.com

“I want you to be happy, and it seems to me that I could give you that happiness — a sunny, simple happiness — and not an altogether common one.”

— Vladimir Nabokov, goodreads.com

“See you soon my strange joy, my tender night.”

— Vladimir Nabokov, goodreads.com

“You came into my life — not as one comes to visit … but as one comes to a kingdom where all the rivers have been waiting for your reflection, all the roads, for your steps.”

— Vladimir Nabokov, goodreads.com

“I swear — and the inkblot has nothing to do with it — I swear by all that’s dear to me, all I believe in — I swear that I have never loved before as I love you, — with such tenderness — to the point of tears — and with such a sense of radiance.”

— Vladimir Nabokov, goodreads.com

“Yes, I need you, my fairy-tale. Because you are the only person I can talk with about the shade of a cloud, about the song of a thought — and about how, when I went out to work today and looked a tall sunflower in the face, it smiled at me with all of its seeds.”

— Vladimir Nabokov, goodreads.com

“It is late now, I am a bit tired; the sky is irritated by stars. And I love you, I love you, I love you – and perhaps this is how the whole enormous world, shining all over, can be created – out of five vowels and three consonants.”

— Vladimir Nabokov, goodreads.com

“I simply want to tell you that somehow I can’t imagine life without you… I love you, I want you, I need you unbearably… Your eyes — which shine so wonder-struck when, with your head thrown back, you tell something funny — your eyes, your voice, lips, your shoulders — so light, sunny… You came into m…”

— Vladmir Nabokov, amazon.ca

“I won’t hide it: I’m so unused to being — well, understood, perhaps, — so unused to it, that in the very first minutes of our meeting I thought: this is a joke… But then… And there are things that are hard to talk about — you’ll rub off their marvelous pollen at the touch of a word… You are lovely.…”

— Vladmir Nabokov, amazon.ca

“All of this is as unsure as writing on water, but water with the azure of reflected possibilities.”

— Vladimir Nabokov, amazon.com

“And do you recall the thunderstorms of our childhood? Frightful thunder over the verandah — and at once the most azure aftermath and on everything: diamonds?”

— Vladimir Nabokov, amazon.com

“I am furious with you, but I love you very dearly.”

— Vladimir Nabokov, amazon.com

“It comes out thus — follow me, Tremens: space is God, and matter is Christ, and time is the Holy Ghost.”

— Vladimir Nabokov, amazon.com

“When I was seventeen, I used to write on average two poems a day, each of them taking me about twenty minutes. Their quality was doubtful, but I didn’t even try to write better then, thinking that I was performing little miracles and that over miracles I didn’t need to think. Now I know that, indeed…”

— Vladimir Nabokov, amazon.com