Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the h — Vladimir Nabokov
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Perhaps what matters is not the human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the harmony of trifles assembled...in a unique and inimitable way.

— Vladimir Nabokov
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