Aunt Rosa a fussy angular wildeyed old lady who had lived in a tremulous world of bad news bankruptcies train accidents cancerous growthsuntil the Germans put her to death together with all the people she had worried about.
Vladimir Nabokov
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I think like a genius, I write like a distinguished author, and I speak like a child.
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The day like the previous days dragged sluggishly by in a kind of insipid idleness devoid even of that dreamy expectancy which can make idleness so enchanting.
- Vladimir Nabokov -