Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
Safe! safe! safe!' the pulse of the house beats wildly. Waking, I cry 'Oh, is this your buried treasure? The light in the heart.
Virginia Woolf
Share
Change background
T
T
T
Change font
Original
TAGS & TOPICS
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
Heart
Buried
Treasure
Beats
Cry
Safe
Happiness
Wildly
House
Pulse
Light
Waking
More quotes by Virginia Woolf
I enjoy almost everything. Yet I have some restless searcher in me. Why is there not a discovery in life? Something one can lay hands on and say “This is it”? My depression is a harassed feeling. I’m looking: but that’s not it — that’s not it. What is it? And shall I die before I find it?
Virginia Woolf
Women and fiction remain, so far as I am concerned, unsolved problems.
Virginia Woolf
Second hand books are wild books, homeless books they have come together in vast flocks of variegated feather, and have a charm which the domesticated volumes of the library lack.
Virginia Woolf
It is part of the novelist's convention not to mention soup and salmon and ducklings, as if soup and salmon and ducklings were of no importance.
Virginia Woolf
Fear no more, says the heart, committing its burden to some sea, which sighs collectively for all sorrows, and renews, begins, collects, lets fall
Virginia Woolf
We are nauseated by the sight of trivial personalities decomposing in the eternity of print.
Virginia Woolf
Outside the trees dragged their leaves like nets through the depths of the air the sound of water was in the room and through the waves came the voices of birds singing.
Virginia Woolf
I feel so intensely the delights of shutting oneself up in a little world of one’s own, with pictures and music and everything beautiful.
Virginia Woolf
If you do not tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people.
Virginia Woolf
Ransack the language as he might, words failed him. He wanted another landscape, and another tongue.
Virginia Woolf
The proper stuff of fiction' does not exist everything is the proper stuff of fiction, every feeling, every thought every quality of brain and spirit is drawn upon no perception comes amiss.
Virginia Woolf
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.
Virginia Woolf
History is too much about wars biography too much about great men.
Virginia Woolf
scarcely a human being in the course of history has fallen to a woman's rifle the vast majority of birds and beasts have been killed by you, not by us. Obviously there is for you some glory, some necessity, some satisfaction in fighting which we have never felt or enjoyed.
Virginia Woolf
The very stone one kicks with one's boot will outlast Shakespeare.
Virginia Woolf
One has to secrete a jelly in which to slip quotations down people's throats - and one always secretes too much jelly.
Virginia Woolf
Every face, every shop, bedroom window, public-house, and dark square is a picture feverishly turned--in search of what? It is the same with books. What do we seek through millions of pages?
Virginia Woolf
We agreed that people are now afraid of the English language. He [T.S. Eliot] said it came of being bookish, but not reading books enough. One should read all styles thoroughly.
Virginia Woolf
I feel my brains, like a pear, to see if it's ripe it will be exquisite by September.
Virginia Woolf
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.
Virginia Woolf