A thousand years ago five minutes were
Equal to forty ounces of fine sand.
Outstare the stars. Infinite foretime and
Infinite aftertime above your head
They close like giant wings and you are dead.
Vladimir Nabokov
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For I do not exist there exist but the thousands of mirrors that reflect me. With every acquaintance I make the population of phantoms resembling me increases. Somewhere they live somewhere they multiply. I alone do not exist.
- Vladimir Nabokov -
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I need you the reader to imagine us for we dont really exist if you dont.
- Vladimir Nabokov -