"Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-li-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to rely, in the third, on the edge of the teeth. Lo. Li. Ta.
was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, when I was right, its forty-eight meters tall, about a foot wearing a sock. Lola was when wearing the pants. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms was always Lolita. "
"At the end of the hall was a staircase, and as I wiped the sweat from his forehead (until then I did not realize how hot it was out) and looked, and look at something, a ball gray tennis placed on an oak chest, I came from the landing the contralto voice of Mrs. Haze, who, leaning over the railing, she asked sweetly, "Is Monsieur Humbert?" Ash a cigarette fell like heading. Then, the very lady was walking down the steps in this order: sandals, brown pants, yellow silk blouse, square face. With the index kept shaking his cigarette. "
"I stood listening for a while since my high ledge that musical vibration, those isolated outbursts cries with a kind of timid murmur in the background. And then I realized that the most painfully piercing was not that Lolita was not by my side, but his voice was not part of that concert. " Vladimir
NABOKOV
( Lolita )
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