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I got out this diary, & read as one always does read one's own writing, with a kind of guilty intensity.
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
Read
Writing
Kind
Always
Diary
Diaries
Journal
Intensity
Guilty
More quotes by Virginia Woolf
The future is dark, which is the best thing the future can be, I think.
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After that, how unbelievable death was! - that is must end and no one in the whole world would know how she had loved it all.
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Why, he wondered, did people who had been asleep always want to make out that they were extremely wide-awake?
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Lord, how tired one gets of one's own writing.
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But Sasha who after all had no English blood in her but was from Russia where the sunsets are longer, the dawns less sudden, and sentences often left unfinished from doubt as to how best to end them.
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And all the lives we ever lived and all the lives to be are full of trees and changing leaves.
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I have lost friends, some by death...others by sheer inability to cross the street.
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What a comfort is friendship in this world.
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Who would not spout the family teapot in order to talk with Keats for an hour about poetry, or with Jane Austen about the art of fiction?
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So coming back from a journey, or after an illness, before habits had spun themselves across the surface, one felt that same unreality, which was so startling felt something emerge. Life was most vivid then.
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The sigh of all the seas breaking in measure round the isles soothed them the night wrapped them nothing broke their sleep, until, the birds beginning and the dawn weaving their thin voices in to its whiteness
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For it is probable that when people talk aloud, the selves (of which there may be more than two thousand) are conscious of disserverment, and are trying to communicate but when communication is established there is nothing more to be said.
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Growing up is losing some illusions, in order to acquire others.
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I am overwhelmed with things I ought to have written about and never found the proper words.
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Would there be trees if we didn't see them?
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I am not so gifted as at one time seemed likely.
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Sometimes I think heaven must be one continuous unexhausted reading.
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I prefer men to cauliflowers
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Life without illusion is a ghostly affair.
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The mind which is most capable of receiving impressions is very often the least capable of drawing conclusions.
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