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
Some people, and I am one of them, hate happy ends. We feel cheated. Harm is the norm.
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote expresses a preference for realism over idealism, suggesting that true happiness can feel disingenuous.
Vladimir Nabokov's quote captures a sentiment that some individuals find comfort in acknowledging life's challenges and emotional struggles, seeing them as an authentic experience rather than the conventional notion of a 'happy ending.' The speaker feels that the prevalence of harm and suffering in life makes artificial resolutions and joyful conclusions seem unearned or dishonest, thus prompting a contemplation of the complexities of human emotion and the nature of storytelling.
Themes
HappinessRealismSufferingPhilosophyStorytelling
In practice
Example use cases
In a speech about the complexity of emotions in literature, this quote can illustrate the depth of character experiences.
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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