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
mom mother thinking
For we think back through our mothers if we are women.
moments despised
These moments of escape are not to be despised. They come too seldom.
wall years bricks-and-mortar
Women have sat indoors all these millions of years, so that by this time the very walls are permeated by their creative force, which has, indeed, so overcharged the capacity of bricks and mortar that it must needs harness itself to pens and brushes and business and politics.
frail
Friendships, even the best of them, are frail things. One drifts apart.
sports weed wind
For this is the truth about our soul, he thought, who fish-like inhabits deep seas and plies among obscurities threading her way between the boles of giant weeds, over sun-flickered spaces and on and on into gloom, cold, deep, inscrutable; suddenly she shoots to the surface and sports on the wind-wrinkled waves; that is, has a positive need to brush, scrape, kindle herself, gossiping.
passion maps london
The streets of London have their map, but our passions are uncharted. What are you going to meet if you turn this corner?
fiction problem unsolved-problems
Women and fiction remain, so far as I am concerned, unsolved problems.
boards
Whenever you see a board up with "Trespassers will be prosecuted," trespass at once.
way want married
I really don't advise a woman who wants to have things her own way to get married
discovery hands feelings
I enjoy almost everything. Yet I have some restless searcher in me. Why is there not a discovery in life? Something one can lay hands on and say “This is it”? My depression is a harassed feeling. I’m looking: but that’s not it — that’s not it. What is it? And shall I die before I find it?
drawing mind receiving
The mind which is most capable of receiving impressions is very often the least capable of drawing conclusions.
london walks
. . . to walk alone in London is the greatest rest.
sleep night sea
The sigh of all the seas breaking in measure round the isles soothed them; the night wrapped them; nothing broke their sleep, until, the birds beginning and the dawn weaving their thin voices in to its whiteness
fiction facts
The truer the facts the better the fiction.