Book:    Bend Sinister
Viewed: 50 - Published at: 2 years ago

An oblong puddle inset in the coarse asphalt; like a fancy footprint filled to the brim with quicksilver; like a spatulate hole through which you can see the nether sky. Surrounded, I note, by a diffuse tentacled black dampness where some dull dun dead leaves have stuck. Drowned, I should say, before the puddle had shrunk to its present size.

( Vladimir Nabokov )
[ Bend Sinister ]
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