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Vladimir Nabokov

“I could isolate, consciously, little. Everything seemed blurred, yellow-clouded, yielding nothing tangible. Her inept acrostics, maudlin evasions, theopathies - every recollection formed ripples of mysterious meaning. Everything seemed yellowly blurred, illusive, lost.”


Vladimir Nabokov, Tyrants Destroyed and Other Stories
tags: ghosts, riddles
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Tyrants Destroyed and Other Stories Tyrants Destroyed and Other Stories by Vladimir Nabokov
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