Quotes from Virginia Woolf

Mi az élet értelme? Ez volt az egész - ez az egyszer? kérdés, mely a múló évekkel egyre jobban bekeríti az embert. A nagy kinyilatkoztatás nem jött még el soha. A nagy kinyilatkoztatás talán nem jön el már soha.

No passion is stronger in the breast of man than the desire to make others believe as he believes. Nothing so cuts at the root of his happiness and fills him with rage as the sense that another rates low what he prizes high. (...) It is not love of truth but desire to prevail that sets quarter against quarter and makes parish desire the downfall of parish. Each seeks peace of mind and subserviency rather than the triumph of truth and the exaltation of virtue.

It was a case of two dogs playing on a hearth-rug; one worrying a paper screw, snarling, snapping, giving a pinch, now and then, at the old dog's ear; the other lying somnolent, blinking at the fire, raising a paw, turning and growling good-temperedly. They had to be together, share with each other, fight with each other, quarrel with each other.

One must strain off what was personal and accidental in all these impressions and so reach the pure fluid, the essential oil of truth.

Mert vannak pillanatok, amikor az ember sem gondolkozni, sem érezni nem tud. S ha nem érezünk, sem nem gondolkozunk, akkor?...t?nÅ'dött.

Sin embargo, no sólo necesitamos un lenguaje nuevo más primitivo, más sensual, más obsceno, sino una nueva jerarquía de las pasiones.

stopping to exclaim at the beauty of the cabbage leaves in the moonlight

What she liked was simply life.

Nothing in the world pleases her so well as solitude. She is happiest alone in the country. She loves rambling alone in her woods. She loves going out by herself at night. She loves hiding from callers. She loves walking among her trees and musing.

The entire gamut of the view's changes should have been known to her; its winter aspect, spring, summer and autumn; how storms came up from the sea; how the moors shuddered and brightened as the clouds went over.

So long as you write what you wish to write, that is all that matters; and whether it matters for ages or only for hours, nobody can say. But to sacrifice a hair of the head of your vision, a shade of its colour, in deference to some headmaster with a silver pot in his hand or to some professor with a measuring-rod up his sleeve, is the most abject treachery, and the sacrifice of wealth and chastity which used to be said to be the greatest of human disasters, a mere flea bite in comparison.

and you wish to be a poet; and you wish to be a lover

And if someone should see, what matter they?

The truth was that she did not want intimacy; she wanted conversation. Intimacy has a way of breeding silence, and silence she abhorred.

El insomnio interpreta el papel del malvado y el héroe se convierte en un líquido blanco de sabor dulce -ese poderoso príncipe de ojos de polilla y pies emplumados, uno de cuyos nombres es Coral.

There is a certain 'beauty' in illness - one is alone - one reads - one thinks - one sees only the people one like seeing. (27 (?)/5/1928) - From a Letter to Duncan Grant)

Jacob observed Florinda. In her face there seemed to him something horribly brainless- as she sat staring.

Kad?nlar yüzy?llar boyunca erkeÄŸin suretini doÄŸal boyutlar?ndan iki kat büyük gösteren sihirli ve enfes bir ayna iÅŸlevi görmüÅŸtür. Åžayet kad?nlar?n bu güçleri olmasayd? dünya herhalde hala batakl?kardan ve vahÅŸi ormanlardan ibaretti.

If this is love, there is something highly ridiculous about it.

What sort of diary should I like mine to be? Something loose knit and yet not slovenly, so elastic that it will embrace any thing, solemn, slight or beautiful that comes into my mind. I should like it to resemble some deep old desk, or capacious hold-all, in which one flings a mass of odds and ends without looking them through.

For Love, to which we may now return, has two faces; one white, the other black; two bodies; one smooth, the other hairy. It has two hands, two feet, two tails, two, indeed, of every member and each one is the exact opposite of the other. Yet, so strictly are they joined together that you cannot separate them.

sedition enters the fortress and our troops rise in insurrection.

Because it is a thousand pities to never say what one feels

when all this and much more than all this was complete and to his liking, Orlando walked through the house with his elk hounds following and felt content.