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We can best help you to prevent war not by repeating your words and following your methods but by finding new words and creating new methods.

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
Publisher
Short Story Writer
Writer
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
Best
Following
Method
Creating
Help
Repeating
Peace
Methods
Words
Prevent
War
Findings
Helping
Finding

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A thousand things to be written had I time: had I power. A very little writing uses up my capacity for writing.
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I find that when I've seen a certain number of people my mind becomes like an old match box -- the part one strikes on, I mean.
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There are no teachers, saints, prophets, good people, but the artists.
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One should aim, seriously, at disregarding ups and downs a compliment here, silence there ... the central fact remains stable, which is the fact of my own pleasure in the art.
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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.
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I like to have space to spread my mind out in.
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In any case life is but a procession of shadows, and God knows why it is that we embrace them so eagerly, and see them depart with such anguish, being shadows.
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Mrs Dalloway is always giving parties to cover the silence
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Literature is no one’s private ground, literature is common ground let us trespass freely and fearlessly and find our own way for ourselves.
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The world was going on as usual. All the time she was writing the world had continued.
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How are we to account for the strange human craving for the pleasure of feeling afraid which is so much involved in our love of ghost stories?
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The sea was indistinguishable from the sky, except that the sea was slightly creased as if a cloth had wrinkles in it.
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Those comfortably padded lunatic asylums which are known, euphemistically, as the stately homes of England.
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It is curious how instinctively one protects the image of oneself from idolatry or any other handling that could make it ridiculous, or too unlike the original to be believed any longer.
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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.
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I have made up thousands of stories I have filled innumerable notebooks with phrases to be used when I have found the true story, the one story to which all these phrases refer. But I have never yet found the story. And I begin to ask, Are there stories?
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So I have to create the whole thing afresh for myself each time. Probably all writers now are in the same boat. It is the penalty we pay for breaking with tradition, and the solitude makes the writing more exciting though the being read less so. One ought to sink to the bottom of the sea, probably, and live alone with ones words.
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... pure honesty is a doubtful quality it means often lack of imagination.
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So that is marriage, Lily thought, a man and a woman looking at a girl throwing a ball
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To be caught happy in a world of misery was for an honest man the most despicable of crimes.
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