For she was a child, throwing bread to the ducks, between her parents who stood by the lake, holding her life in her arms which, as she neared them, grew larger and larger in her arms, until it became a whole life, a complete life, which she put down by them and said, "This is what I have made of it! This!" And what had she made of it? What, indeed?

Virginia Woolf


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Odd how the creative power at once brings the whole universe to order

Virginia Woolf

Tags: creativity



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Human beings have neither kindness, nor faith, nor charity beyond what serves to increase the pleasure of the moment.

Virginia Woolf

Tags: life character



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It might be possible that the world itself is without meaning.

Virginia Woolf

Tags: life meaning



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What does the brain matter compared with the heart?

Virginia Woolf

Tags: love logic



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Indeed my aunt's legacy unveiled the sky to me, and substituted for the large and imposing figure of a gentleman, which Milton recommended for my perpetual adoration, a view of the open sky.

Virginia Woolf


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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.

Virginia Woolf


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When people are happy they have a reserve upon which to draw, whereas she was like a wheel without a tyre

Virginia Woolf


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It rasped her, though, to have stirring about in her this brutal monster! to hear twigs cracking and feel hooves planted down in the depths of that leaf-encumbered forest, the soul; never to be content quite, or quite secure, for at any moment the brute would be stirring, this hatred...

Virginia Woolf


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Shakespeare's state of mind

Virginia Woolf


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