"And although there is plenty of space on a gravestone to contain, bound in moss,
an abridged version of a man's life.
Detail is always welcome.
It so happened one night that Albinus had a beautiful idea.
No you can't take a pistol and plug a girl you don't even know, simply because she attracts you.
Blunders, gropings, disappointment. And alongside these feeble romances there had been hundreds of girls of whom he had dreamed but whom he had never got to know.
The Chestnuts were in full bloom. Lilac bush. designed a Persian fairytale. mild blue eyes.
a willowy, wispy, fair haired girl with colourless eyes. something so airy, so dainty.
a clinging soul, docile and gentle.
Her love was of the lily variety.
Soft evenings spent, balcony high above blue streets, wires + chimneys drawn in Indian ink, he was happy beyond his desserts.
I'd like to crush her beautiful throat.
Arms akimbo. She had grown pretty, wore a red frock and was mad on the movies.
He had flaxen hair combed back, his shirt billowed behind. She smiled + arranged her skirt. travelling a terrific speed, he took her outside the city, halted. A sunny evening, a little party of midges darning the air, quietude of pine and heather.
He fell into a violent passion on the slightest provocation.
kiss her so violently.
'you may kiss me, but not in that way.'"
Vladimir Nabokov: Laughter in the Dark