Sunday, January 23, 2011

GODS by Vladimir Nabokov

I love this:

"Listen--I want to run all my life, screaming at the top of
my lungs. Let all of life be an unfettered howl. Like the crowd greeting the gladiator. Don't stop to think, don't interrupt the scream, exhale, release life's rapture. Everything is blooming. Everything is flying. Everything is screaming, choking on its screams. Laughter. Running. Let-down hair. That is all there is to life."

The full story is here, if you are curious.

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