I would never re-write you. You are by far my most complete and greatest novel. You and your splendor; lingering in my brain across a timelessly barefoot reality. — Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Vita Sackville-West, 23 November 1926.
I want to resemble a sort of liquid light which stretches beyond visibility or invisibility. Tonight I wish to have the valor and daring to belong to the moon. —Virginia Woolf, A Writer’s Diary. (Mariner Books; First edition, March 31, 2003) Originally published 1953.
For pain words are lacking. There should be cries, cracks, fissures, whiteness passing over chintz covers, interference with the sense of time, of space ; the sense also of extreme fixity in passing objects ; and sounds very remote and then very close ; flesh being gashed and blood sparting, a joint suddenly twisted –… Continue reading Virginia Woolf
I feel insignificant, lost, but exultant. — Virginia Woolf, The Waves. (Harvest Books 1978) Originally published October 8th 1931.
Month by month things are losing their hardness; even my body now lets the light through; my spine is soft like wax near the flame of the candle. I dream; I dream. — Virginia Woolf, The Waves. (Harvest Books 1978) Originally published October 8th 1931.
I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realises an emotion at the time. It expands later, and thus we don’t have complete emotions about the present, only about the past. ― Virginia Woolf, The Diary of Virginia Woolf, Volume Three: 1925-1930. (Mariner Books; First edition, September 14, 1981)
Let us record the atoms as they fall upon the mind in the order in which they fall, let us trace the pattern, however disconnected and incoherent in appearance, which each sight or incident scores upon the consciousness. Let us not take it for granted that life exists more fully in what is commonly thought… Continue reading Virginia Woolf