Sleep, that deplorable curtailment of the joy of life. Virginia Woolf More Quotes by Virginia Woolf More Quotes From Virginia Woolf Nothing shakes my opinion of a book. Nothing -- nothing. Only perhaps if it's the book of a young person -- or of a friend -- no, even so, I think myself infallible. Virginia Woolf opinionbookthinking 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 illuminationsimpledark I have sometimes dreamt ... that when the Day of Judgment dawns and the great conquerors and lawyers and statesmen come to receive their rewards -- their crowns, their laurels, their names carved indelibly upon imperishable marble -- the Almighty will turn to Peter and will say, not without a certain envy when He sees us coming with our books under our arms, "Look, these need no reward. We have nothing to give them here. They have loved reading. Virginia Woolf readingnamesbook But nothing is so strange when one is in love (and what was this except being in love?) as the complete indifference of other people. Virginia Woolf being-in-lovestrangepeople And you wish to be a poet; and you wish to be a lover. Virginia Woolf poetloverswish One of the signs of passing youth is the birth of a sense of fellowship with other human beings as we take our place among them. Virginia Woolf maturitytimebirthday Of the rest some we know to be dead though they walk among us; some are not yet born though they go through the forms of life; others are hundreds of years old though they call themselves thirty-six. Virginia Woolf sixformyears I want the concentration and the romance, and the worlds all glued together, fused, glowing: have no time to waste any more on prose. Virginia Woolf glowingromancetogether By hook or by crook, I hope that you will possess yourselves of money enough to travel and to idle, to contemplate the future or the past of the world, to dream over books and loiter at street corners and let the line of thought dip deep into the stream Virginia Woolf dreambooktravel 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 feelingsdiscoveryhands The very stone one kicks with one's boot will outlast Shakespeare. Virginia Woolf kicksbootsstones We are about to part," said Neville. "Here are the boxes; here are the cabs. There is Percival in his billycock hat. He will forget me. He will leave my letters lying about among guns and dogs unaswered. I shall send him poems and he will perhaps reply with a picture post card. But it is for that that I love him. I shall propose a meeting - under a clock, by some Cross; and shall wait and he will not come. It is for that that I love him. Virginia Woolf i-love-himdoglying The most important thing is not to think very much about oneself. To investigate candidly the charge; but not fussily, not very anxiously. On no account to retaliate by going to the other extreme -- thinking too much. Virginia Woolf too-muchimportantthinking Romantic Love is only an Illusion. A story one makes up in One's Mind about Another Person. Virginia Woolf romantic-lovemindlove-is Intellectual freedom depends upon material things. Virginia Woolf dependsmaterialsintellectual Besides, in this random miscellaneous company we may rub against some complete stranger who will, with luck, turn into the best friend we have in the world. Virginia Woolf luckmayworld For what Harley Street specialist has time to understand the body, let alone the mind or both in combination, when he is a slave to thirteen thousand a year? Virginia Woolf bodymindyears When she read just now to James, 'and there were numbers of soldiers with kettledrums and trumpets,' and his eyes darkened, she thought, why should they grow up, and lose all that? Virginia Woolf losesgrowing-upgrows When the body escaped mutilation, seldom did the heart go to the grave unscarred. Virginia Woolf gravesbodyheart No, I'm not clever. I've always cared more for people than for ideas. Virginia Woolf cleverpeopleideas
