Virginia Woolf
Virginia Woolf
Adeline Virginia Woolf, known professionally as Virginia Woolf, was an English writer and one of the foremost modernists of the twentieth century...
NationalityBritish
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth25 January 1882
CityLondon, England
powerful women history
For most of history, Anonymous was a woman.
beauty beautiful time
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.
travel women speech
Humor is the first of the gifts to perish in a foreign tongue.
mirrors use may
Whatever may be their use in civilized societies, mirrors are essential to all violent and heroic action.
reality tears transparency
It is as if Emily Brontë could tear up all that we know human beings by, and fill these unrecognizable transparencies with such a gust of life that they transcend reality.
friendship women book
Each has his past shut in him like the leaves of a book known to him by his heart, and his friends can only read the title.
numbness people soul
Once conform, once do what other people do because they do it, and a lethargy steals over all the finer nerves and faculties of the soul. She becomes all outer show and inward emptiness; dull, callous, and indifferent.
life time women
The older one grows, the more one likes indecency.
silly thinking sentimental
Peter would think her sentimental. So she was. For she had come to feel that it was the only thing worth saying – what one felt. Cleverness was silly. One must say simply what one felt.
life order should
Someone has to die in order that the rest of us should value life more.
good-night winter sound
Melancholy were the sounds on a winter's night.
sleep draught fatigue
Fatigue is the safest sleeping draught.
truth business mean
Mental fight means thinking against the current, not with it. It is our business to puncture gas bags and discover the seeds of truth.
book dark squares
Every face, every shop, bedroom window, public-house, and dark square is a picture feverishly turned--in search of what? It is the same with books. What do we seek through millions of pages?