Vladimir Nabokov Quotes

The summer moon hung full in the sky. For the time being it was the great fact of the world.

The brawling of a sparrow in the eaves The brilliant moon and all the milky sky And all that famous harmony of leaves Had blotted out man's image and his cry.

The pale and quiet moon Makes her calm forehead bare, And the last fragments of the storm, Like shattered rigging from a fight at sea, Silent and few, are drifting over me.

Solitude has its own very strange beauty to it.

Lie on your back and look at the stars.

The silence that is in the starry sky, / The sleep that is among the lonely hills.

Felling a tree and gazing at the cut end - tonight's moon

There is a peacefulness, an air of reflection, about a rocking-chair that attaches to no other moving object.

Holding up my purring cat to the moon. I sighed.

Silence is best.

With Jackson there was quiet solitude. Just to sit and look at the landscape. An inner quietness. After dinner, to sit on the back porch and look at the light. No need for talking. For any kind of communication.

When was the last time you spent a quiet moment just doing nothing - just sitting and looking at the sea, or watching the wind blowing the tree limbs, or waves rippling on a pond, a flickering candle or children playing in the park?

Only silence perfects silence.

She would sit by herself in the middle of the old stoe amphitheatre, with the sky's starry vault overhead, and simply listen to the great silence around her.

It was night and I could see a large and calm lake, reflecting the moon. Black mountains rose around it. I arrived from between two of these mountains, I looked at the lake and the moon, and that was it, nothing else happened.

I want to live quietly.

Spend as much time as you can in silence. Look at the way the sun paints the ground gold.

There is something joyous about not talking.

I believe silence is the greatest sound of all.

I like to look at the skyline and the moon.

As before, there is a great silence, with no end in sight. The writer surrenders, listening.

Real action is in silent moments.

GRINNING, DUCKING MY HEAD FOR BALANCE, I START TO SPIN WILDLY AS I CAN. THAT IS MY FAVORITE DANCE, BECAUSE IT CONTAINS A SECRET. THE FASTER I TWIRL, THE MORE I AM STILL INSIDE. MY DANCE IS ALL MOTION WITHOUT, ALL SILENCE WITHIN. AS MUCH AS I LOVE TO MAKE MUSIC, IT'S THE UNHEARD MUSIC THAT NEVER DIES. AND SILENCE IS MY REAL DANCE, THOUGH IT NEVER MOVES. IT STANDS ASIDE, MY CHOREOGRAPHER OF GRACE, AND BLESSES EACH FINGER AND TOE.

There are times when we stop, we sit still. We listen and breezes from a whole other world begin to whisper.