MIKA

Add friend
Sign in to Goodreads to learn more about MIKA.

https://www.instagram.com/m.icae.la
https://www.goodreads.com/goldustupmysea

Iron in the Soul
Rate this book
Clear rating

 
War and Peace
MIKA is currently reading
bookshelves: classics, currently-reading
Rate this book
Clear rating

progress: 
 
  (40%)
2 hours, 28 min ago

 
Prisms
Rate this book
Clear rating

progress: 
 
  (page 170 of 272)
20 hours, 41 min ago

 
Loading...
Vladimir Nabokov
“How can I explain to you, my happiness, my golden wonderful happiness, how much I am all yours — with all my memories, poems, outbursts, inner whirlwinds? Or explain that I cannot write a word without hearing how you will pronounce it — and can’t recall a single trifle I’ve lived through without regret — so sharp! — that we haven’t lived through it together — whether it’s the most, the most personal, intransmissible — or only some sunset or other at the bend of a road — you see what I mean, my happiness?

And I know: I can’t tell you anything in words — and when I do on the phone then it comes out completely wrong. Because with you one needs to talk wonderfully, the way we talk with people long gone… in terms of purity and lightness and spiritual precision… You can be bruised by an ugly diminutive — because you are so absolutely resonant — like seawater, my lovely.

I swear — and the inkblot has nothing to do with it — I swear by all that’s dear to me, all I believe in — I swear that I have never loved before as I love you, — with such tenderness — to the point of tears — and with such a sense of radiance.”
Vladimir Nabokov, Letters to Vera

Vladimir Nabokov
“My delightful, my love, my life, I don’t understand anything: how can you not be with me? I’m so infinitely used to you that I now feel myself lost and empty: without you, my soul. You turn my life into something light, amazing, rainbowed—you put a glint of happiness on everything—always different: sometimes you can be smoky-pink, downy, sometimes dark, winged—and I don’t know when I love your eyes more—when they are open or shut. It’s eleven p.m. now: I’m trying with all the force of my soul to see you through space; my thoughts plead for a heavenly visa to Berlin via air . . . My sweet excitement . . .

Today I can’t write about anything except my longing for you. I’m gloomy and fearful: silly thoughts are swarming—that you’ll stumble as you jump out of a carriage in the underground, or that someone will bump into you in the street . . . I don’t know how I’ll survive the week.

My tenderness, my happiness, what words can I write for you? How strange that although my life’s work is moving a pen over paper, I don’t know how to tell you how I love, how I desire you. Such agitation—and such divine peace: melting clouds immersed in sunshine—mounds of happiness. And I am floating with you, in you, aflame and melting—and a whole life with you is like the movement of clouds, their airy, quiet falls, their lightness and smoothness, and the heavenly variety of outline and tint—my inexplicable love. I cannot express these cirrus-cumulus sensations.

When you and I were at the cemetery last time, I felt it so piercingly and clearly: you know it all, you know what will happen after death—you know it absolutely simply and calmly—as a bird knows that, fluttering from a branch, it will fly and not fall down . . . And that’s why I am so happy with you, my lovely, my little one. And here’s more: you and I are so special; the miracles we know, no one knows, and no one loves the way we love.

What are you doing now? For some reason I think you’re in the study: you’ve got up, walked to the door, you are pulling the door wings together and pausing for a moment—waiting to see if they’ll move apart again. I’m tired, I’m terribly tired, good night, my joy. Tomorrow I’ll write you about all kinds of everyday things. My love.”
Vladimir Nabokov, Letters to Vera

Vladimir Nabokov
“Without you I wouldn’t have moved this way, to speak the language of flowers.”
Vladimir Nabokov, Letters to Vera

Vladimir Nabokov
“It's cold today, but in a spring way, and I love you.”
Vladimir Nabokov, Letters to Vera

Vladimir Nabokov
“I’m walking out now into the soft light, the cooling him of evening, and I will love you tonight, and tomorrow, and still many more, so very many tomorrows.”
Vladimir Nabokov, Letters to Vera

518918 PewDiePie's Literature Club — 2267 members — last activity Nov 05, 2025 08:12AM
A group where we read and discuss the books recommended by Felix Most recent book review video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yfQAnBol6Jw Felix' ...more
220 Goodreads Librarians Group — 325094 members — last activity 2 minutes ago
Goodreads Librarians are volunteers who help ensure the accuracy of information about books and authors in the Goodreads' catalog. The Goodreads Libra ...more
year in books
cam &#x...
1,422 books | 676 friends

♡Ann⁠♡
1,087 books | 412 friends

Iman
32 books | 14 friends

cas
cas
158 books | 36 friends

lysa ₍^...
1 book | 35 friends

Terry
8,001 books | 5,001 friends

Katheri...
63 books | 79 friends

Nika
1 book | 45 friends


The Dhammapada by AnonymousSiddhartha by Hermann HesseOld Path White Clouds by Thich Nhat Hanh
A Buddhist Reading List
923 books — 1,198 voters
Lolita by Vladimir NabokovMan's Search for Meaning by Viktor E. FranklJane Eyre by Charlotte BrontëThe Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky
Best Books Ever
78,298 books — 291,889 voters

More…

Favorite Genres



Polls voted on by MIKA

Lists liked by MIKA