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
bronze dropped face great heavy hung iron mask private scaffold yellow
Tom's great yellow bronze mask all draped upon an iron framework. An inhibited, nerve-drawn; dropped face -- as if hung on a scaffold of heavy private brooding; and thought.
brain brains buried machinery passion roaring soaring
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?
phantom
It is far more difficult to murder a phantom than a reality.
convenient somebody term
I' is only a convenient term for somebody who has no real being.
british-author foreign gifts humour perish
Humour is the first of the gifts to perish in a foreign tongue.
british-author english-poet feeble force seems
The beautiful seems right by force of beauty, and the feeble wrong because of weakness.
foreign gift humor perish
Humor is the first gift to perish in a foreign language.
wall blow blue
Yet there are moments when the walls of the mind grow thin; when nothing is unabsorbed, and I could fancy that we might blow so vast a bubble that the sun might set and rise in it and we might take the blue of midday and the black of midnight and be cast off and escape from here and now.
life-is exciting imaginary
And yet, the only exciting life is the imaginary one.
wise men thinking
Why does Samuel Butler say, 'Wise men never say what they think of women'? Wise men never say anything else apparently.
tree ifs
Would there be trees if we didn't see them?
dirty thinking water
To pursue truth with such astonishing lack of consideration for other people's feelings, to rend the think veils of civilisation so wantonly, so brutally, was to her so horrible an outrage of human decency that, without replying, dazed and blinded, she bend her head as if to let her pelt f jagged hail, the drench of dirty water, bespatter her unrebuked.
always-trying trying sides
A sort of transaction went on between them, in which she was on one side, and life was on another, and she was always trying to get the better of it, as it was of her.
slumber fiction burning
Novels so often provide an anodyne and not an antidote, glide one into torpid slumbers instead of rousing one with a burning brand.