Nabokov sends his regards:
I could isolate, consciously, little. Everything seemed blurred, yellow-clouded, yielding nothing tangible. Her inept acrostics, maudlin evasions, theopathies—every recollection formed ripples of mysterious meaning. Everything seemed yellowly blurred, illusive, lost.
7 comments:
Nabokov! TASP! Love!
I still check this blog. I still love you guys.
rachel, where have you been? also, hooray for the blog!
I love the quote.
And I love you, Rachel.
And I miss everyone.
And I think that this blog should be RESURRECTED. It is, after all, Halloween, right...? So it's a good day to bring things back to life. Except resurrecting this blog wouldn't be scary; it would be sweeter than a bucketful of candy.
I don't know where I am going with this comment and I'm on a sugar high/am very sleep deprived because of college, but I hope you understand me. The blog must survive.
Yes, Alina!
And we should meet up!
We're so close to each other!
And I love you all, and we should totally resurrect this blog.
Yes Ana, we should meet! Do you have my number? I don't think I have yours :( but we should connect somehow and maybe spend a day in SF or something.
Oh, can we?
That would be so much fun!
I think I have your number, I guess I'll try it and see if it's the right one!
Am happy our Blog is still thus loved! Nabokov, too.
On the contrary, Mac: where have YOU been? So strange that we haven't crossed paths recently... Zounds!
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