“You are the only person I can talk with about the shade of a cloud, about the song of a thought — and about how, when I went out to work today and looked a tall sunflower in the face, it smiled at me with all of its seeds.”— For Vladimir Nabokov’s birthday, his impossibly beautiful love letters to Véra, the love of his life, Letters to Véra (Penguin Classics, 2016)
(via art-is-art-is-art)
nightmare-deactivated20210928:
hate it here (realm of consciousness) going back to sleep
(via ravenclawandorder)
