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Her only gift was knowing people almost by instinct, she thought, walking on. If you put her in a room with someone, up went her back like a cat's or she purred.
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
Thought
Gift
Back
Walking
Like
Room
People
Rooms
Went
Almost
Purred
Knowing
Cat
Someone
Instinct
More quotes by Virginia Woolf
The interest in life does not lie in what people do, nor even in their relations to each other, but largely in the power to communicate with a third party, antagonistic, enigmatic, yet perhaps persuadable, which one may call life in general.
Virginia Woolf
Just in case you ever foolishly forget I'm never not thinking of you
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Nothing thicker than a knife's blade separates happiness from melancholy.
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There was a day when I liked writing letters -- it has gone. Unfortunately the passion for getting them remains.
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Life stand still here.
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If the best of one's feelings means nothing to the person most concerned in those feelings, what reality is left us?
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There was no freedom in life, and certainly there was none in death.
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I worship you, but I loathe marriage. I hate its smugness, its safety, its compromise and the thought of you interfering with my work, hindering me what would you answer?
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The beauty of the world, which is so soon to perish, has two edges, one of laughter, one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder.
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Travelers are much at the mercy of phrases ... vast generalizations formulate in their exposed brains.
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Illusions are to the soul what atmosphere is to the earth.
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And when we are writing the life of a woman, we may, it is agreed, waive our demand for action, and substitute love instead. Love, the poet has said, is a woman's whole existence.
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Romantic Love is only an Illusion. A story one makes up in One's Mind about Another Person.
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I like to have space to spread my mind out in.
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No one would think of bringing a dog into church. For though a dog is all very well on a gravel path, and shows no disrespect to flowers, the way he wanders down an aisle, looking, lifting a paw, and approaching a pillar with a purpose that makes the blood run cold with horror ... a dog destroys the service completely.
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I'm fundamentally, I think, an outsider. I do my best work and feel most braced with my back to the wall. It's an odd feeling though, writing aginst the current: difficult entirely to disregard the current. Yet of course I shall.
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When I cannot see words curling like rings of smoke round me I am in darkness—I am nothing.
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... pure honesty is a doubtful quality it means often lack of imagination.
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With twice his wits, she had to see things through his eyes -- one of the tragedies of married life.
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We must reconcile ourselves to a season of failures and fragments.
Virginia Woolf