1,646 Quotes by Virginia Woolf

When I am grown up I shall carry a notebook—a fat book with many pages, methodically lettered. I shall enter my phrases.

The way to rock oneself back into writing is this. First gentle exercise in the air. Second the reading of good literature. It is a mistake to think that literature can be produced from the raw. One must get out of life...one must become externalised; very, very concentrated, all at one point, not having to draw upon the scattered parts of one's character, living in the brain.

In tutti questi secoli le donne hanno sempre svolto la funzione di specchi, dotati del magico e delizioso potere di riflettere la figura dell'uomo al doppio delle sue dimensioni naturali.

Ujmując rzecz po grubiańsku, piłka nożna i sport są „istotne"; zaś moda i kupowanie strojów - „trywialne". I te wartości nieuchronnie zostają przeniesione do literatury. Oto ważna książka, zakłada z góry krytyk, ponieważ traktuje o wojnie. A oto książka nieistotna, bo mowa w niej o uczuciach kobiet w bawialni. Scena z pola bitwy jest ważniejsza niż scena ze sklepu - różnica wartości zaznacza się wszędzie, choć często znacznie subtelniej.

Oh, yes, dear reader: the essay is alive. There is no reason to despair.

And were they happy together? Sally asked ...; for, she admitted, she knew nothing about them, only jumped to conclusions, as one does, for what can one know even of the people one lives with every day? she asked. Are we not all prisoners? She had read a wonderful play about a man who scratched on the wall of his cell, and she had felt that was true of life — one scratched on the wall.

No passion is stronger in the breast of man than the desire to make others believe as he believes... ....Tories, Liberal Party and Labour Party for what do they battle except their own prestige - No passion is stronger in the breast of man than the desire to make others believe as he believes....Tories, Liberal Party and Labour Party for what do they battle except their own prestige

the only sign that Katharine gave of abstraction was to forget to help the pudding. She looked so like her mother, as she sat there oblivious of the tapioca

Now to sum it up,' said Bernard. 'Now to explain to you the meaning of my life. Since we do not know each other (though I met you once I think, on board a ship going to Africa), we can talk freely. The illusion is upon me that something adheres for a moment, has roundness, weight, depth, is completed. This, for the moment, seems to be my life. If it were possible, I would hand it you entire. I would break it off as one breaks off a bunch of grapes. I would say, "Take it. This is my life.