It isn't possible. I cannot imagine it. Come on over here, you foolish little doe, and tell me on what day I shall die.
In Vladimir Nabokov's "Invitation to a Beheading", the narrator expresses disbelief at the notion of predicting one's own death. The character's skepticism highlights the absurdity of trying to foresee such a definitive moment in life, suggesting that fate lies beyond human comprehension. Additionally, the phrase "you foolish little doe" presents a whimsical yet poignant challenge to the idea of fate. It captures a moment of vulnerability intertwined with defiance, urging the reader to reflect on the nature of existence and the uncertainty that accompanies it. The complexity of mortality is emphasized through this dialogue, inviting deeper contemplation of life and death.
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All the things you can talk about in anyone's work are the things that are least important.
Race of Cain, ascend to heaven, And cast God down upon the earth!
