It is possible to avoid failure, to always be safe. But that is also the route to a dull, uninteresting life.

The Montana sunset lay between the mountains like a giant bruise from which darkened arteries spread across a poisoned sky.

Turn a mountain upside down, you have a woman. Turn a woman upside down, you have a valley. Turn a valley upside down, you get folk music.

Mind you, sometimes the angels smoke, hiding it with their sleeves, and when the archangel comes, they throw the cigarettes away: that’s when you get shooting stars.

Written By Vladimir Nabokov

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