Virginia Woolf Quotes, Thinking Quotes, Light Quotes

It is equally vain,” she thought, “for you to think you can protect me, or for me to think I can worship you. The light of truth beats upon us without shadow, and the light of truth is damnably unbecoming to us both.

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Habits and customs are a convenience devised for the support of timid natures who dare not allow their souls free play.

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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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Beauty was not everything. Beauty had this penalty — it came too readily, came too completely. It stilled life — froze it.

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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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Fear no more, says the heart.

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To sit and contemplate - to remember the faces of women without desire, to be pleased by the great deeds of men without envy, to be everything and everywhere in sympathy and yet content to remain where and what you are.

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Tags : Virginia Woolf Quotes , Men Quotes , Envy Quotes

I was in a queer mood, thinking myself very old: but now I am a woman again - as I always am when I write.

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The history of most women is hidden either by silence, or by flourishes and ornaments that amount to silence.

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Tags : Virginia Woolf Quotes , Witty Quotes , Silence Quotes

It is worth mentioning, for future reference, that the creative power which bubbles so pleasantly in beginning a new book quiets down after a time, and one goes on more steadily. Doubts creep in. Then one becomes resigned. Determination not to give in, and the sense of an impending shape keep one at it more than anything.

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Tags : Virginia Woolf Quotes , Determination Quotes , Book Quotes

One should be a painter. As a writer, I feel the beauty, which is almost entirely colour, very subtle, very changeable, running over my pen, as if you poured a large jug of champagne over a hairpin.

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Tags : Virginia Woolf Quotes , Running Quotes , Jugs Quotes

She dares me to pour myself out like a living waterfall. She dares me to enter the soul that is more than my own; she extinguishes fear in mere seconds. She lets light come through.

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There are no teachers, saints, prophets, good people, but the artists.

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Criticism? An artist wants praise. Praise.

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Peace was the third emotion. Love. Hate. Peace. Three emotions made the ply of human life.

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. . . clumsiness is often mated with a love of solitude.

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But I think I’m coloured by my own wishes, & experimental mood.

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The melancholy river bears us on. When the moon comes through the trailing willow boughs, I see your face, I hear your voice and the bird singing as we pass the osier bed. What are you whispering? Sorrow, sorrow. Joy, joy. Woven together, like reeds in moonlight.

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A strange thing has happened - while all the other arts were born naked, this, the youngest, has been born fully-clothed. It can say everything before it has anything to say. It is as if the savage tribe, instead of finding two bars of iron to play with, had found scattering the seashore fiddles, flutes, saxophones, trumpets, grand pianos by Erhard and Bechstein, and had begun with incredible energy, but without knowing a note of music, to hammer and thump upon them all at the same time.

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Tags : Virginia Woolf Quotes , Art Quotes , Knowing Quotes

This self now as I leant over the gate looking down over fields rolling in waves of colour beneath me made no answer. He threw up no opposition. He attempted no phrase. His fist did not form. I waited. I listened. Nothing came, nothing. I cried then with a sudden conviction of complete desertion. Now there is nothing. No fin breaks the waste of this immeasurable sea. Life has destroyed me. No echo comes when I speak, no varied words. This is more truly death than the death of friends, than the death of youth.

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Tags : Virginia Woolf Quotes , Echoes Quotes , Self Quotes