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To whom can I expose the urgency of my own passion?…There is nobody—here among these grey arches, and moaning pigeons, and cheerful games and tradition and emulation, all so skilfully organised to prevent feeling alone.
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
Among
Organised
Nobody
Pigeons
Alone
Expose
Passion
Urgency
Feeling
Cheerful
Skilfully
Games
Grey
Emulation
Feelings
Prevent
Moaning
Tradition
Arches
More quotes by Virginia Woolf
Some collaboration has to take place in the mind between the woman and the man before the art of creation can be accomplished. Some marriage of opposites has to be consummated. The whole of the mind must lie wide open if we are to get the sense that the
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Neither of us knows what the public will think. There's no doubt in my mind that I have found out how to begin (at forty) to say something in my own voice and that interests me so that I feel I can go ahead without praise.
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I am writing to a rhythm and not to a plot.
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Happiness is to have a little string onto which things will attach themselves.
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Great bodies of people are never responsible for what they do.
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I will not be famous, great. I will go on adventuring, changing, opening my mind and my eyes, refusing to be stamped and stereotyped. The thing is to free one's self: to let it find its dimensions, not be impeded.
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There was a serenity about him always that had the look of innocence, when, technically, the word was no longer applicable.
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We are nauseated by the sight of trivial personalities decomposing in the eternity of print.
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I am tied down with single words. But you wander off you slip away you rise up higher, with words and words in phrases.
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People only become writers if they can't find the one book they've always wanted to read.
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War is not women's history.
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For beyond the difficulty of communicating oneself, there is the supreme difficulty of being oneself.
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The profound difference that divides the human race is a question of bait - whether to fish with worms or not.
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If one could be friendly with women, what a pleasure - the relationship so secret and private compared with relations with men. Why not write about it truthfully?
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O friendship, I too will press flowers between the pages of Shakespeare's sonnets!
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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.
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Fatigue is the safest sleeping draught.
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No passion is stronger in the breast of a man than the desire to make others believe as he believes. Nothing so cuts at the root of his happiness and fills him with rage as the sense that another rates low what he prizes high.
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If only she could put them together, she felt, write them out in some sentence, then she would have got at the truth of things.
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All the months are crude experiments, out of which the perfect September is made.
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