>>28276
Nabokov's prose makes me wet. It took me 6 months to finish 2/3s of the book because it would take me an hour to read 5 or so pages, mostly because I would keel over laughing, often times falling out of my chair, because of how hilariously eloquent Humphrey is when talking about how much he wants to drool all over his little Lo.
Another favorite quote is, "Sometimes . . . Come on, how often exactly, Bert? Can you recall four,
five, more such occasions? Or would no human heart have survived two or
three? Sometimes (I have nothing to say in reply to your question), while
Lolita would be haphazardly preparing her homework, sucking a pencil,
lolling sideways in an easy chair with both legs over its arm, I would shed
all my pedagogic restraint, dismiss all our quarrels, forget all my
masculine pride–and literally crawl on my knees to your chair, my Lolita!
You would give me one look–a gray furry question mark of a look: "Oh no,
not again" (incredulity, exasperation); for you never deigned to believe
that I could, without any specific designs, ever crave to bury my face in
your plaid skirt, my darling! The fragility of those bare arms of yours–how
I longed to enfold them, all your four limpid lovely limbs, a folded colt,
and take your head between my unworthy hands, and pull the temple-skin back
on both sides, and kiss your chinesed eyes, and–"Pulease, leave me alone,
will you," you would say, "for Christ's sake leave me alone." And I would
get up from the floor while you looked on, your face deliberately twitching
in imitation of my tic nerveux. But never mind, never mind, I am only
a brute, never mind, let us go on with my miserable story."