 
“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 was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”
“You seemed to replace your brain with your heart ."
“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 was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”
“You seemed to replace your brain with your heart ."
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<center><table background="https://img.nickpic.host/58kXXF.png" style="background-position:bottom; background-color:#0d0107; background-repeat: no-repeat;border:1px double #000000; outline-color:black; outline-style:;width:600px;padding-bottom:750px;padding-top:15px;padding-left:70px;padding-right:55px;<tr><td height="0px"><tr><td align="center">
<div id="outerDiv" style="position: relative; border: 0px double #3b170c;overflow:hidden; ">
<div id="semiTransparentDiv" style="position: absolute; background-color: transparent; filter:alpha(opacity=10);-moz-opacity:.10;opacity:.10; height: 100%; width: 100%; z-index: 1;"></div><div align="justify"> <div id="contentDiv" style="position:relative;z-index:2; padding-bottom:20px;padding-top:10px;padding-left:05px;padding-right:05px;"><font style="color:#e1decc;font-family:times;font-size: 10px; line-height: 11px;letter-spacing:0.1em;word-spacing:0.1em;"> “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 was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”
<font style="color:#6a5de8;font-style:italic; font-family:times; font-size: 14px; line-height: 11px;letter-spacing:0.1em; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #95ddee;"> “You seemed to replace your brain with your heart ." </font>
“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 was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”
<font style="color:#95ddee;font-style:italic; font-family:times; font-size: 14px; line-height: 11px;letter-spacing:0.1em; text-shadow: 0px 0px 12px #d6c7ff;"> “You seemed to replace your brain with your heart ." </font>
</div></td></tr> </table><div align=center> <font style="color:black;font-family:arial; font-size: 7px; line-height: 12px;letter-spacing:0.1em;">STOCK➤<a href="www.dawnthieves.de"> Dawnthieves</a> ART ➤AMPHI </font> </div> </center>
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