Virginia Woolf Quotes
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I’m not clear enough in the head to feel anything but varieties of dull anger and arrows of sadness.
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The Lighthouse was then a silvery, misty-looking tower with a yellow eye, that opened suddenly, and softly in the evening. Now— James looked at the Lighthouse. He could see the white-washed rocks; the tower, stark and straight; he could see that it was barred with black and white; he could see windows in it; he could even see washing spread on the rocks to dry. So that was the Lighthouse, was it? No, the other was also the Lighthouse. For nothing was simply one thing. The other Lighthouse was true too.
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... the public and the private worlds are inseparably connected ... the tyrannies and servilities of the one are the tyrannies and servilities of the other.
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Never are voices so beautiful as on a winter's evening, when dusk almost hides the body, and they seem to issue from nothingness with a note of intimacy seldom heard by day.
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As a woman I have no country. As a woman my country is the whole world.
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With my cheek leant upon the window pane I like to fancy that I am pressing as closely as can be upon the massy wall of time, which is forever lifting and pulling and letting fresh spaces of life in upon us. May it be mine to taste the moment before it has spread itself over the rest of the world! Let me taste the newest and the freshest.
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No, I'm not clever. I've always cared more for people than for ideas.
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I am writing to a rhythm and not to a plot.
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more and more I come to loathe any dominion of one over another; any leadership, any imposition of the will.
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How many times have people used a pen or paintbrush because they couldn’t pull the trigger?
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war is a man's game ... the killing machine has a gender and it is male.
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Am I too fast, too facile? I do not know. I do not know myself sometimes, or how to measure and name and count out the grains that make me what I am.
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At any rate, when a subject is highly controversial-and any question about sex is that-one cannot hope to tell the truth. One can only show how one came to hold whatever opinion one does hold.
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And again she felt alone in the presence of her old antagonist, life.
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Novels so often provide an anodyne and not an antidote, glide one into torpid slumbers instead of rousing one with a burning brand.
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Yes, she thought, laying down her brush in extreme fatigues, I have had my vision.
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There are moments when one can neither think nor feel, she thought, and if one can neithre feel nor think, where's one?
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I have a deeply hidden and inarticulate desire for something beyond the daily life.
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I prefer men to cauliflowers
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My notion's to think of the human beings first and let the abstract ideas take care of themselves.
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She dares me to pour myself out like a living waterfall. She dares me to enter the soul that is more than my own; she extinguishes fear in mere seconds. She lets light come through.
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One ought to sink to the bottom of the sea, probably, and live alone with one's words.
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Why is life so tragic; so like a little strip of pavement over an abyss. I look down; I feel giddy; I wonder how I am ever to walk to the end.
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We must reconcile ourselves to a season of failures and fragments.