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I read the book of Job last night, I don't think God comes out well in it.
Virginia Woolf
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Virginia Woolf
Age: 59 †
Born: 1882
Born: January 25
Died: 1941
Died: March 28
Author
Autobiographer
Diarist
Essayist
Feminist
Literary Critic
Novelist
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Short Story Writer
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London
England
Virxhinia Ulf
Virginia yo juanito Adeline Woolf
Virg̔inyah Vold
Virdžiniâ Vulf
Virdzhiniia Vulf
Virzhinia Ulf
Virginia Stephen
Virzhin︠iia Ulf
Adeline Virginia Stephen
Virginyah Volf
Adeline Virginia Woolf
Virginia Adeline Woolf
Adeline Virginia Stephen Woolf
Birtzinia Gulph
Virginia Stephen Woolf
Woolf
Virginia
1882-1941
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Last
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More quotes by Virginia Woolf
The habit of writing for my eye is good practice. It loosens the ligaments.
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A light here required a shadow there.
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Thus Mr. Lawrence, Mr. Douglas and Mr. Joyce partly spoil their books for women readers by their display of self-conscious virility and Mr. Hemingway, but much less violently, follows suit.
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That complete statement which is literature.
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Methinks the human method of expression by sound of tongue is very elementary, and ought to be substituted for some ingenious invention which should be able to give vent to at least six coherent sentences at once.
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The poet is always our contemporary.
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A self that goes on changing is a self that goes on living.
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Yes, she thought, laying down her brush in extreme fatigues, I have had my vision.
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What is amusing now had to be taken in desperate earnest once.
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I am to be broken. I am to be derided all my life. I am to be cast up and down among these men and women, with their twitching faces, with their lying tongues, like a cork on a rough sea. Like a ribbon of weed I am flung far every time the door opens.
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I begin to long for some little language such as lovers use, broken words, inarticulate words, like the shuffling of feet on pavement.
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Never did anybody look so sad. Bitter and black, halfway down, in the darkness, in the shaft which ran from the sunlight to the depths, perhaps a tear formed a tear fell the waves swayed this way and that, received it, and were at rest. Never did anybody look so sad.
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Whenever you see a board up with Trespassers will be prosecuted, trespass at once.
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It is worth mentioning, for future reference, that the creative power which bubbles so pleasantly in beginning a new book quiets down after a time, and one goes on more steadily. Doubts creep in. Then one becomes resigned. Determination not to give in, and the sense of an impending shape keep one at it more than anything.
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Like most uneducated Englishwomen, I like reading--I like reading books in the bulk.
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When you consider things like the stars, our affairs don't seem to matter very much, do they?
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We insist, it seems, on living.
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It was a silly, silly dream, being unhappy.
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I have sought happiness through many ages and not found it.
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I grow numb I grow stiff. How shall I break up this numbness which discredits my sympathetic heart?
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