Jan 212016


The poor lady was in her middle thirties, she had a shiny forehead, plucked eyebrows and quite simple but not unattractive features of a type that may be defined as a weak solution of Marlene Dietrich.
(Humbert description of Charlotte, temporary wife.)

“Look, Lo, at all those cows on that hillside.”
“I think I’ll vomit if I look at a cow again.”

I was about to move away when his voice addressed me:
“Where the devil did you get her?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I said: the weather is getting better.”
“Seems so.”
“Who’s the lassie?”
“My daughter.”
“You lie – she’s not.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I said: July was hot.”
(Quilty and Humbert early dialogue.)

“I was taught to live happily and richly with others and to develop wholesome personality. Be a cake, in fact.”
“Yes. I saw something of that sort in the booklet.”
“We loved the sings around the fire in the big stone fireplace or under the darned stars, where every girl merged her own spirit of happiness with the voice of the group.”
“Your memory is excellent, Lo, but I must trouble you to leave out the swear words. Anything else?”
(Lolita about the summer camp.)

A great user of roadside facilities, my unfastidious Lo would be charmed by toilet signs—Guys-Gals, John-Jane, Jack-Jill and even Buck’s-Doe’s.

Dick, with a grin of relief stood up. He guessed Bill and he would be going back to fix those wires. He guessed Mr. Haze and Dolly had loads of things to say to each other. He guessed he would be seeing me before I left. Why those people guess so much and shave so little, and are disdainful of hearing aids?

We fell to wrestling again. We rolled all over the floor, in each other arms, like two huge helpless children. He was naked and goatish under his robe, and I felt suffocated as he rolled over me. I rolled over him. We rolled over me. They rolled over him. We rolled over us.
(Humbert and Quilty final confrontation.)

The road now stretched across open country, and it occur to me—not by way of protest, not as a symbol, or anything like that, but merely as a novel experience—that since I had disregarded all laws of humanity, I might as well disregard the rules of traffic. So I crossed to the left side of the highway and checked the feeling, and the feeling was good.
(Humbert after the murder.)