Sunday, June 05, 2011

"At the stations, Vasiliy Ivanovich would look at the configuration of some entirely insignificant objects---a smear on the platform, a cherry stone, a cigarette butt---and would say to himself that never, never would he remember these three little things here in that particular interrelation, this pattern, which he now could see with such deathless precision; or again, looking at a group of children waiting for a train, he would try with all his might to single out at least one remarkable destiny---in the form of a violin or a crown, a propeller or a lyre---and would gaze until the whole party of village schoolboys appeared as in an old photograph, now reproduced with a little white cross above the face of the last boy on the right: the hero's childhood."

cloud, castle lake by vladimir nabokov in the stories of vladimir nabokov. page 432.

so very true, mr. nabokov---so very true.

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