Vladimir Nabokov is undeniably the greatest stylist to have ever walked this planet. Take this sentence from Pale Fire, for one: "Would he ever come for me?" I used to wonder waiting and waiting, in certain amber-and-rose crepuscules, for a ping-pong friend, or for old John Shade. How beautiful is "certain amber-and-rose crepuscules"? I’m still learning how to write like that, but the more I read Nabokov, the more I’m inspired to challenge myself to seek beauty in every sentence I write—and to push the boundaries of the English language to create something extraordinary.