11 Quotes by Virginia Woolf about friendship
- Author Virginia Woolf
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I want someone to sit beside after the day's pursuit and all its anguish, after its listening, and its waitings, and its suspicions. After quarrelling and reconciliation I need privacy - to be alone with you, to set this hubbub in order. For I am as neat as a cat in my habits.
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- Author Virginia Woolf
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To communicate is our chief business; society and friendship our chief delights; and reading, not to acquire knowledge, not to earn a living, but to extend our intercourse beyond our own time and province.
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- Author Virginia Woolf
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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.
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- Author Virginia Woolf
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You send a girl to school in order to make friends - the right sort.
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- Author Virginia Woolf
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All mists curl off the roof of my being. That confidence I shall keep to my dying day. :ike a long wave, like a roll of heavy waters, he washes over me, his devastating presence - dragging me open, laying bare the pebbles on the shore of my soul. It was humiliating. I was turned to small stones.
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- Author Virginia Woolf
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I must be able to say, 'Percival, a ridiculous name'. At the same time let me tell you, men and women, hurrying to the tube station, you would have had to respect him. You would have had to form up and follow behind him. How strange to oar one's way through crowds seeing life through hollow eyes, burning eyes.
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- Author Virginia Woolf
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Among the tortures and devastations of life is this then—our friends are not able to finish their stories.
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- Author Virginia Woolf
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All mists curl off the roof of my being. That confidence I shall keep to my dying day. Like a long wave, like a roll of heavy waters, he washes over me, his devastating presence - dragging me open, laying bare the pebbles on the shore of my soul. It was humiliating. I was turned to small stones.
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- Author Virginia Woolf
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… acolo, de-a curmezișul golfului și printre dune, zăcea prietenia lui, păstrîndu-și întreaga vitalitate și realitate, asemenea cadavrului unui tînăr care ar fi rămas îngropat un secol în turbă, conservîndu-și roșeața proaspătă a buzelor.
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