Quotes Nabokov Mga Nobela at Kwento

“Don’t even fucking start with me.” Scrutinizingly, Anatoly crossed his hands over his chest, arching a questioning brow at me. “I’m sure this can’t be bad for you. You’re Nikolai. TheNiko Yezhov. You don’t have a fucking Achilles heel. You can handle anything.”

Lavender: Mister Volkov stayed seated, his eyes fixed on the ground. Sabrina kept inching one step closer to the door, looking for an excuse to leave. “Nobody is leaving,” Nikon said when he must have noticed his father uncross his leg, ready to get up. “What do you want us to do then?” Mister Volkov asked Nikon. “Apologize?” Nikon gave him a look, getting up slowly and walking over to me. He was in his black suit like always, his shoes shining so brightly that I could see my reflection in them as he stopped right in front of me.

"Am I going blind? What the hell is Norbert doing with his number one STALKER?" There was enough venom attached to every word. Rachel didn't know that Norbert had heard them until she heard him drawl in a mocking tone that made her wince at the harshness. "You're fools to brood over rumors. Get a life, Rachel is my new love interest matter of factly. "Get used to it. Bitches like you never keep your mouth shut but here's my warning. You mess with her, I'll mess with you." With that, he kissed her forehead and led her out leaving Miss Blonde ass bitch and her sidekicks in shock, and most importantly... Silence.

by Baudelaire. "The deafening street around me screamed. Tall, slender, in mourning, majestic pain, A woman passed..." The words pierce me. They speak not of possession, but of fleeting desire, of inaccessible beauty, of an instant and eternally missed connection. It is the antithesis of the brothers' suffocating obsession. It’s dangerous. It’s intoxicating. Niko finds the book on my bedside table. His fingers brush the binding with deadly delicacy. —Baudelaire. Voronin fancies himself an aesthete. He tries to seduce you with the melancholy of the streets while he lives in a gilded bunker.

Nathaniel's Obsession “Do y’all always have to wait this long for them?” Derek asked as they approached the table outside. It was a beautiful evening to be outside. Rosalyn’s eyes widened as she noticed they were new faces on the table and obviously a sore-faced Rafael. She said hi to Isobel as Nathaniel pulled out her seat and tucked her in. He was sweet some times. Derek raised an eyebrow at Nathaniel’s gentlemanly before. He had to refrain from busting out into laughter at the fuck off look Nathaniel three his way.

Ava When I wake up the next day, Nikolai is gone and on his nightstand is a light pink shoebox. A note sits neatly on top of it, the edges crisp. My fingers move before I can stop them, reaching out and lifting the piece of paper from the box. I flick it open and stare at the words sprawled in the unfamiliar handwriting. 'Try not to amputate your leg while I'm gone. I’d hate to come back and find my wife hopping around. —Nikola"

“My mother’s been eyeing the empty spot on the living room wall. She wants a framed photo.” Nora shut her mouth. “Food’s here!” A cart rolled in, the waiter narrating each dish as it was set down. “No need for the whole presentation. I’ve already seen the menu.” Nora waved them off, and within moments it was just the two of them again. Nathaniel reached for the bowl in front of her and ladled out half a serving of the fresh squab consommé, steam curling up, rich and fragrant. He set it down before she’d fully registered what happened.

Niko grinned like a Cheshire cat as he told the waiter to bring them a bottle of Cristal, truffles, shrimp cocktail, three beluga caviar platters, and to put it on Trevor’s tab. I’m going to have a two thousand dollar tab and no pussy to show for it. Unbelievable. Trevor fought not to roll his eyes. He wasn’t a fool. If he made a move on Nabia behind Niko’s back, he was a dead man – Hudson or not. The Giovanni Family were notorious mobsters with Niko at the helm. “So how did you two meet?” Trevor asked. He truly was curious about that. “Eight months ago, I had just finished a runway show,” Nabia began as she sat the flowers next to her in the booth. “Niko came back stage and introduced himse

UCL library was full of dust and the faint smell of old paper, as well as a sharp contrast to the fresh efficiency of the lectures by Adrian Volkov. Nalia sat huddled in a corner booth, with tall heaps of books on the economic theory, and her pencil was scrawling angrily on pieces of notebook in an attempt to keep her mind focused away from the constant throb of Adrian's presence in her head. The voice, so low and commanding, of that good-looking man lingered within her ears and was a phantom touching in her flesh with prickly points of delight.

There are days when I adore you just a little more than a human being can adore. -Vladimir Nabokov. |A L E E Z A| Perched on the cool kitchen counter, I observed Kirill's graceful movements as he navigated my kitchen with ease. The aroma of spicy jambalaya wafted through the air, adding a layer of warmth to the room. Kirill had arrived at my apartment straight from the airport, claiming he is hungry. I offered to cook, but he dismissed my attempt with a simple statement: "It's not your responsibility to feed me." I agreed, it most definitely is not.