Foto © Thomas E. Wunsch „It was the same child - the same frail, honey-hued shoulders, the same silky supple bare back, the same chestnut head of hair. A (…) kerchief tied around her chest hid from my aging ape eyes, but not from the gaze of young memory, the juvenile breasts I had fondled one immortal day...”   (Valdimir Nabokov, Lolita, Part 1, Chapter 10)