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Now begins to rise in me the familiar rhythm words that have lain dormant now lift, now toss their crests, and fall and rise, and falls again. I am a poet, yes. Surely I am a great poet.

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
Rise
Toss
Poet
Lift
Words
Lifts
Fall
Falls
Great
Surely
Rhythm
Crests
Begins
Lain
Familiar
Dormant

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His eyes were bright, and, indeed, he scarcely knew whether they held dreams or realities...and in five minutes she had filled the shell of the old dream with the flesh of life.
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Who shall measure the hat and violence of the poet's heart when caught and tangled in a woman's body?
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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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But what a little I can get down into my pen of what is so vivid to my eyes, and not only to my eyes also to some nervous fibre, or fanlike membrane in my species.
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A light here required a shadow there.
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Like and like and like--but what is the thing that lies beneath the semblance of the thing?
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Was not writing poetry a secret transaction, a voice answering a voice?
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For the film maker must come by his convention, as painters and writers and musicians have done before him.
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Without self awareness we are as babies in the cradles.
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I need not hate any man he cannot hurt me. I need not flatter any man he has nothing to give me.
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I feel that by writing I am doing what is far more necessary than anything else.
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They lack suggestive power. And when a book lacks suggestive power, however hard it hits the surface of the mind it cannot penetrate within.
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For the young people could not talk. And why should they? Shout, embrace, swing, be up at dawn.
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