Quotes About Temptation

Perhaps if the future existed, concretely and individually, as something that could be discerned by a better brain, the past would not be so seductive: its demands would be balanced by those of the future.

No you can't take a pistol and plug a girl you don't even know simply because she attracts you.

In our hallway, ablaze with welcoming lights, my Lolita peeled off her sweater, shook her gemmed hair, stretched towards me two bare arms, raised one knee: "Carry me upstairs, please. I feel sort of romantic tonight." It may interest physiologists to learn, at this point, that I have the ability - a most singular case, I presume - of shedding torrents of tears throughout the other tempest.

Light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul.

With your little claws, Lolita.

Lolita, luce della mia vita, fuoco dei miei lombi. Mio peccato, anima mia. Lo-li-ta: la punta della lingua compie un percorso di tre passi sul palato per battere, al terzo, contro i denti. Lo. Li. Ta.

Solitude is the playfield of Satan. I

I qualify it as pathetic. Pathetic--because despite the insatiable fire of my venereal appetite, I intended, with the most fervent force and foresight, to protect the purity of that twelve-year-old child.

So I tom-peeped across the hedges of years, into wan little windows. And when, by means of pitifully ardent, naively lascivious caresses, she of the noble nipple and massive thigh prepared me for the performance of my nightly duty, it was still a nymphet's scent that in despair I tried to pick up, as I bayed through the undergrowth of dark decaying forests.

I am lanky, big-boned, wooly-chested Humbert Humbert, with thick black eyebrows and a queer accent, and a cesspoolful of rotting monsters behind his slow boyish smile.

No wonder tobacco shops have a predilection for corners, for

In my self-made seraglio, I was a radiant and robust Turk, deliberately, in the full consciousness of his freedom, postponing the moment of actually enjoying the youngest and frailest of his slaves.

I was on my knees, and on the point of possessing my darling, when two bearded bathers, the old man of the sea and his brother, came out of the sea with exclamations of ribald encouragement, and four months later she died of typhus in Corfu.

Lolita, luz da minha vida, fogo da minha virilidade. Meu pecado, minha alma. Lo-li-ta: A ponta da língua faz uma viagem de três passos pelo céu-da-boca abaixo e, no terceiro, bate nos dentes. Lo. Li. Ta. Pela manhã, um metro e trinta e dois a espichar dos soquetes; era Lo, apenas Lo. De calças práticas, era Lola. Na escola, era Dolly. Era Dolores na linha pontilhada onde assinava o nome. Mas nos meus braços era sempre Lolita.

Lolita, luce della mia vita, fuoco dei miei lombi. Mio peccato, anima mia. Lo-li-ta: la punta della lingua compie un percorso di tre passi sul palato per battere, al terzo, contro i denti. Lo. Li. Ta. Era Lo, semplicemente Lo al mattino, ritta nel suo metro e quarantasette con un calzino solo. Era Lola in pantaloni. Era Dolly a scuola. Era Dolores sulla linea tratteggiata dei documenti. Ma tra le mie braccia era sempre Lolita.

I found Dolores Haze at the kitchen table, consuming a wedge of pie, with her eyes fixed on her script. They rose to meet mine with a kind of celestial vapidity.

My mouth to him was a splendid cave full of priceless treasures, but I denied him entrance.

and he, Hugh Person....began to undress her in the motels of his mind

Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She

Otar, her lover, said that when you walked behind her, and she knew you were walking behind her, the swing and play of those slim haunches was something intensely artistic, something Arab girls were taught in special schools by special Parisian panders who were afterwards strangled. Her

He started as a maker of Cartesian devils—imps of bottle glass bobbing up and down in methylate-filled tubes hawked during Catkin Week on the boulevards. He

she had painted her lips and was holding in her hollowed hands a beautiful, banal, Eden-red apple.

Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta

Lolita, hayat?m?n ?????, kas?klar?m?n ateÅŸi. Günah?m, ruhum, Lolita; dilin ucu damaktan diÅŸlere doÄŸru üç basamakl?k bir yol al?r, üçüncÄŸsÄŸnde gelir diÅŸlere dayan?r. Lo-Li-Ta.