Non aveva mai capito che senso avesse fare a pezzi le persone, come faceva Clarissa Dalloway - farle a pezzi e poi rimetterle assieme.

“Venerable are letters, infinitely brave, forlorn, and lost. Life would split as…”

“I am the guardian of the sleeping fawn; the snow is dear to me; and the moon ri…”

“Books, she thought, grew of themselves. She never had time to read them. Alas! …”

“It seemed to her such nonsense-inventing differences, when people, heaven knows…”