Pale Fire

by Vladimir Nabokov

Just this: not text, but texture; not the dream But topsy-turvical coincidence, 810 Not flimsy nonsense, but a web of sense. Yes! It sufficed that I in life could find Some kind of link-and-bobolink, some kind Of correlated pattern in the game, Plexed artistry, and something of the same Pleasure in it as they who played it found.

There were some casualties. A crimson balloon was enthusiastically shot down and the aeronaut (a well-known meteorologist) drowned in the Gulf of Surprise.

One of those wonderful Nabokovian asides that take you by surprise and make you laugh out loud.