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Virginia Woolf Quotes - Page 6

All Quotes Adventure Age Aging Art Beach Beauty Belief Bitterness Blame Bones Chaos Character Charity Children Communication Consciousness Country Creativity Criticism Darkness Death Desire Difficulty Diversity Doubt Duty Dying Earth Effort Essays Feelings Feminism Fighting Flying Freedom Friendship Funny Genius Giving Goodness Growing Up Happiness Hate Hatred Healing Heart Heaven History Home Honesty House Human Nature Hurt Illness Imagination Independence Inspiration Inspirational Intimacy Joy Judging Language Life Literature Love Lust Lying Madness Memories Moon Morning Motivational Nature Pain Passion Past Peace Perception Personality Philosophy Pleasure Praise Quality Reading Reality Reflection Running Sadness Safety Silence Silver Singing Skins Sleep Solitude Soul Spring Stress Style Suffering Tea Time Today Tragedy Travel Truth Vision Waiting Wall War Water Weed Wine Winter Writing

Never let anybody guess that you have a mind of your own. Above all be pure

Never let anybody guess that you have a mind of your own. Above all be pure

Mind, Pure

Virginia Woolf (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Virginia Woolf (Illustrated)”, p.3993, Delphi Classics

It is a thousand pities never to say what one feels.

Pity, Mrs Dalloway, Thousand

Virginia Woolf (2007). “Selected Works of Virginia Woolf”, p.201, Wordsworth Editions

But how entirely I live in my imagination; how completely depend upon spurts of thought, coming as I walk, as I sit; things churning up in my mind and so making a perpetual pageant, which is to be my happiness.

Happy, Imagination, Mind

Virginia Woolf (2003). “A Writer's Diary”, p.78, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

For it would seem - her case proved it - that we write, not with the fingers, but with the whole person. The nerve which controls the pen winds itself about every fibre of our being, threads the heart, pierces the liver.

Writing, Heart, Wind

Virginia Woolf (2015). “Orlando”, p.149, Booklassic

When the Day of Judgment dawns and people, great and small, come marching in to receive their heavenly rewards, the Almighty will gaze upon the mere bookworms and say to Peter, “Look, these need no reward. We have nothing to give them. They have loved reading.

Reading, People, Giving

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.

Light, Soul, Waterfalls

To be silent; to be alone. All the being and the doing, expansive, glittering, vocal, evaporated; and one shrunk, with a sense of solemnity, to being oneself, a wedge-shaped core of darkness, something invisible to others.

Being Alone, Darkness, Invisible

Virginia Woolf (2007). “Selected Works of Virginia Woolf”, p.296, Wordsworth Editions

These moments of escape are not to be despised. They come too seldom.

Moments, Despised

Virginia Woolf (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Virginia Woolf (Illustrated)”, p.1395, Delphi Classics

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.

Looks, Littles, Pavement

Virginia Woolf (2003). “A Writer's Diary”, p.39, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

My own brain is to me the most unaccountable of machinery - always buzzing, humming, soaring roaring diving, and then buried in mud. And why? What's this passion for?

Passion, Reflection, Brain

Virginia Woolf, Nigel Nicolson, Joanne Trautmann Banks (1979). “The Letters of Virginia Woolf: 1932-1935”, Harvest Books

Once you begin to take yourself seriously as a leader or as a follower, as a modern or as a conservative, then you become a self-conscious, biting, and scratching little animal whose work is not of the slightest value or importance to anybody.

Animal, Self, Leader

Virginia Woolf (2009). “The Essays of Virginia Woolf: 1929-1932”, Chatto & Windus

Rigid, the skeleton of habit alone upholds the human frame.

Skeletons, Mrs Dalloway, Habit

Virginia Woolf (2012). “Mrs. Dalloway - Broadview Edition”, p.49, Broadview Press

The mind which is most capable of receiving impressions is very often the least capable of drawing conclusions.

Drawing, Mind, Receiving

Virginia Woolf (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Virginia Woolf (Illustrated)”, p.2593, Delphi Classics

For this moment, this one moment, we are together. I press you to me. Come, pain, feed on me. Bury your fangs in my flesh. Tear me asunder. I sob, I sob.

Pain, Tears, Together

Virginia Woolf (2016). “The Waves”, p.111, Virginia Woolf

Melancholy were the sounds on a winter's night.

Good Night, Winter, Sound

Virginia Woolf (2015). “Jacob's Room”, p.46, Booklassic

Night had come—night that she loved of all times, night in which the reflections in the dark pool of the mind shine more clearly than by day.

Dark, Reflection, Night

Virginia Woolf (2007). “Selected Works of Virginia Woolf”, p.558, Wordsworth Editions

As a woman, I have no country

Country

Three Guineas pt. 3 (1938)

Now this is very profound, what rhythm is, and goes far deeper than words. A sight, an emotion, creates this wave in the mind, long before it makes words to fit it.

Sight, Profound, Long

Virginia Woolf (1983). “To the lighthouse: the original holograph draft”, Chatto & Windus

I ransack public libraries & find them full of sunk treasure.

Book, Reading, Thought Provoking

"The Diary of Virginia Woolf: 1920-1924".

The extraordinary woman depends on the ordinary woman.

Ordinary, Extraordinary, Depends

Virginia Woolf, David Bradshaw (2009). “Selected Essays”, p.133, Oxford University Press

The mind must be allowed to settle undisturbed over the object in order to secrete the pearl.

Order, Empathy, Mind

Virginia Woolf (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Virginia Woolf (Illustrated)”, p.4523, Delphi Classics

Soup is cuisines kindest course

Soup, Cuisine, Courses

The older one grows, the more one likes indecency.

Life, Time, Women

Virginia Woolf (2012). “Monday or Tuesday: Eight Stories”, p.33, Courier Corporation

Our friends - how distant, how mute, how seldom visited and little known. And I, too, am dim to my friends and unknown; a phantom, sometimes seen, often not. Life is a dream surely.

Dream, Littles, Phantoms

Virginia Woolf (2016). “The Waves”, p.204, Virginia Woolf

One can only believe entirely, perhaps, in what one cannot see.

Believe

Virginia Woolf, Michael H. Whitworth (2014). “Orlando: A Biography”, p.116, Oxford University Press, USA

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