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People only become writers if they can't find the one book they've always wanted to read.
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
Writers
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People
More quotes by Virginia Woolf
Yield to that strange passion which sends you madly whirling round the room.
Virginia Woolf
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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She felt... how life, from being made up of little separate incidents which one lived one by one, became curled and whole like a wave which bore one up with it and threw one down with it, there, with a dash on the beach.
Virginia Woolf
When, however, one reads of a witch being ducked, of a woman possessed by devils, of a wise woman selling herbs, or even a very remarkable man who had a mother, then I think we are on the track of a lost novelist, a suppressed poet. . . indeed, I would venture to guess that Anon, who wrote so many poems without signing them, was often a woman.
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In people's eyes, in the swing, tramp, and trudge in the bellow and uproar the carriages, motor cars, omnibuses, vans, sandwich men shuffling and swinging brass bands barrel organs in the triumph and the jingle and the strange high singing of some aeroplane overhead was what she loved life London this moment in June.
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I want to write a novel about Silence, he said “the things people don’t say.
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Without self awareness we are as babies in the cradles.
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Whatever may be their use in civilized societies, mirrors are essential to all violent and heroic action.
Virginia Woolf
But our hatred is almost indistinguishable from our love.
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What is the meaning of life? That was all- a simple question one that tended to close in on one with years, the great revelation had never come. The great revelation perhaps never did come. Instead, there were little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark here was one.
Virginia Woolf
Indeed there has never been any explanation of the ebb and flow in our veins--of happiness and unhappiness.
Virginia Woolf
About here, she thought, dabbling her fingers in the water, a ship had sunk, and she muttered, dreamily half asleep, how we perished, each alone.
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it is strange how the dead leap out on us at street corners, or in dreams
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One ought to sink to the bottom of the sea, probably, and live alone with one's words.
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Happiness is to have a little string onto which things will attach themselves.
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Let it be fact, one feels, or let it be fiction the imagination will not serve under two masters simultaneously.
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It's my choice, to choose how to live my life.
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That great Cathedral space which was childhood.
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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
Am I a weed, carried this way, that way, on a tide that comes twice a day without a meaning?
Virginia Woolf