Oh, my Lolita, I have only words to play with!

Lolita, 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…

After Olympia Press, in Paris, published the book, an American critic suggested that Lolita was the record of my love affair with the romantic novel. The subst…

Whenever in my dreams, I see the dead, they always appear silent, bothered, strangely depressed, quite unlike their dear bright selves. I am aware of them, wit…

Image:that which presents an intellectual and emotional complex in an instant of time.

Her every tone is music's own, Like those of morning birds, And something more than melody Dwells ever in her words.

Great literature, past or present, is the expression of great knowledge of the human heart; great art is the expression of a solution of the conflict between t…