chess

complacency

curiosity

Ernest Hemingway

eternity

existence

future

Fyodor Dostoevsky

genius

Joseph Conrad

life

literature

loneliness

moon

parody

philistine

poetry

prophecy

psychoanalysis

rain

reader

satire

science

seven deadly sins

sleep

solitude

spiral

style

time

trifle

William Shakespeare

world itself

nationality

Russian

occupation / innovator as

novelist

poet

intellectual movement

modernism

American

translator

zoologist

screenwriter

university teacher

lepidopterist

playwright

autobiographer

religion

agnosticism

literary critic

journalist

chess composer

science fiction writer

chess player

is distinguished from science in this: there is no science without fancy and no art without fact.

There is no science without fancy and no art without fact.

is a state of mind that exists only in retrospective: it has to be shattered before being ascertained.

Complacency is a state of mind that exists only in retrospective: it has to be shattered before being ascertained.

Curiosity'is insubordination in its purest form.

is an odd thing. The arrow that has hit its mark flies forever.

Which arrow flies for ever? The arrow that has hit its mark.

is a series of footnotes to a vast, obscure, unfinished masterpiece.

is just a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness.

Genius is an African that dreams of snow. (Vladimir Nabokov)

is the contrapuntal genius of human fate.

is the mysteries of the irrational perceived through rational words.

is the tolerating of a perfect stranger at the bedside of one's mind.

Why should I tolerate a perfect stranger at the bedside of my mind'

is the most moronic fraternity in the world, with the heaviest dues and the crudest rituals.

the most moronic fraternity in the world, with the heaviest dues and the crudest rituals.

is a spiritualized circle. In the spiral form, the circle, uncoiled, has ceased to be vicious... it has been set free.

The spiral is a spiritualized circle. In the spiral form, the circle, uncoiled, has ceased to be vicious; it has been set free.

is itself matter, so much so that entire stories can be but webs of style seemingly not containing much kinetic matter.

All my stories are webs of style and none seems at first blush to contain much kinetic matter. For me style is matter. Nabokov

is created by individual perception, and that therefore, nothing prevents mankind as such from having no future at all if for example our genus evolves to enjoy other varieties of being and dreaming, beyond man's notion of time.

Van argues that time is created by individual perception, and that therefore, 'nothing prevents mankind as such from having no future at all if for example our genus evolves by Imperceptible degrees a novo-sapiens species or another subgenus altogether, which will enjoy other varieties of being and dreaming, beyond man's notion of Time.

 only exist when perceived by human consciousness. Should all of 'mankind' vanish, 'time' itself will cease to exist, as the word 'time' is merely a description of human cognition.

According to Van . . . time only exist when perceived by human consciousness. Should all of 'mankind' vanish, 'time' itself will cease to exist, as the word 'time' is merely a description of human cognition a position that, as Toker points out, is drawn from Bergson. But while Bergson's account of time depends on human consciousness as a measurement of duration, Van's account differs from Bergson's in its insistence on individual consciousness... for Van, time is the creation of the individual experiencing it, rather than of human consciousness as a whole. Van thinks there is no time for any given individual before that individual's first memory, and there will be no time for that individual after his death.

is the creation of the individual experiencing it, rather than of human consciousness as a whole.There is no time for any given individual before that individual's first memory, and there will be no time for that individual after his death.

is so boundless at first blush, but it is, in fact, a prison.

's verbal poetical texture is the greatest the world has known, and is immensely superior to the structure of his plays as plays.

is but a series of footnotes to a vast unfinished masterpiece.

The world itself is but a series of footnotes to a vast unfinished masterpiece.

Vladimir NabokovThinkers

Vladimir Nabokov