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  • Virginia Woolf Quotes   817
  • Style is a very simple matter; it is all rhythm. Once you get that, you can't use the wrong words. But on the other hand here am I sitting after half the morning, crammed with ideas, and visions, and so on, and can't dislodge them, for lack of the right rhythm. Now this is very profound, what rhythm is, and goes far deeper than any words. A sight, an emotion, creates this wave in the mind, long before it makes words to fit it.
    • 5 years ago



    Tags : Virginia Woolf Quotes , Morning Quotes , Simple Quotes
  • In fact, though their acquaintance had been so short, they had guessed, as always happens between lovers, everything of any importance about each other in two seconds at the utmost, and it now remained only to fill in such unimportant details as what they were called; where they lived; and whether they were beggars or people of substance.
    • 5 years ago



    Tags : Virginia Woolf Quotes , Two Quotes , People Quotes
  • Yet there are moments when the walls of the mind grow thin; when nothing is unabsorbed, and I could fancy that we might blow so vast a bubble that the sun might set and rise in it and we might take the blue of midday and the black of midnight and be cast off and escape from here and now.
    • 5 years ago



    Tags : Virginia Woolf Quotes , Wall Quotes , Blow Quotes
  • Walden - all his books, indeed - are packed with subtle, conflicting, and very fruitful discoveries. They are not written to prove something in the end. They are written as the Indians turn down twigs to mark their path through the forest. He cuts his way through life as if no one had ever taken that road before, leaving these signs for those who come after, should they care to see which way he went.
    • 5 years ago



    Tags : Virginia Woolf Quotes , Book Quotes , Taken Quotes
  • Until we can comprehend the beguiling beauty of a single flower, we are woefully unable to grasp the meaning and potential of life itself.
    • 5 years ago



    Tags : Virginia Woolf Quotes
  • For she was a child, throwing bread to the ducks, between her parents who stood by the lake, holding her life in her arms which, as she neared them, grew larger and larger in her arms, until it became a whole life, a complete life, which she put down by them and said, "This is what I have made of it! This!" And what had she made of it? What, indeed?
    • 5 years ago



    Tags : Virginia Woolf Quotes , Children Quotes , Lakes Quotes