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About
Virginia Woolf ..
But looking for eloquent phrases I found none to stand beside your name.

(25 January 1882 – 28 March 1941) 


Creator:
Tarkovskologist    

“From love he had suffered the tortures of the damned. Now, again, he paused, and into the breach thus made, leapt ambition, the harridan, and Poetry, the witch, and Desire of Fame, the strumpet; all joined hands and made of his heart their dancing ground.”

— Virginia Woolf, Orlando: A Biography

6:36 pm  13 notes

“How then did it work out, all this? How did one judge people, think of them? How did one add up this and that and conclude that it was liking one felt, or disliking? And to those words, what meaning attached, after all?”

— Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse

(Source: nikioftime)

6:35 pm  17 notes

“…I felt like a wet towel, sitting there. My brain wont grip.”

— Virginia Woolf, diary entry dated March 18th, 1936

(Source: englishmajorinrepair)

6:35 pm  189 notes

6:24 pm  17 notes

thinkingoflolita:

I got a beautiful Penguin Classics copy of Orlando in the post today. Unfortunately I’d ordered Flush, and they sent me the wrong thing, but it is beautiful.

6:08 am  25 notes

"Among the clutter of my studio is a very large photograph of Virginia Woolf taken in her late thirties, a beautiful one with her long fingers stretched up to her cheekbones and deep-set, melancholy eyes. It has lived in my changing work spaces, among books, clay, etching inks, and tools for twenty years, and holds the place of honor and the muse. Along with this photo are a number of large, hand-printed quotations from Woolf about work, the brain, shapes, and the creative process. As they yellow, tear, stain, and deteriorate, I make them again, and again, and again." — Suzanne Bellamy

“I’m getting very morose and disconsolate without you and Angelica; whom I depend on entirely, I find, for congenial conversation: At this moment, in this pouring rain, I could be gossiping with you: much better than sitting here, writing interminable letters […] Still, theres your blessed art to be considered, I suppose.”

Virginia Woolf in a letter to Vanessa Bell

5:46 am  10 notes

“This is just to thank you for your kind and encouraging letter. In the midst of this destroying strain it has been a great joy to have such tireless and generous friendship and understanding as you have given.”

T. S. Eliot in a letter to Virginia Woolf

5:42 am  56 notes

“My brain is like a scale: one grain pulls it down. Yesterday it balanced: today dips.”

— Virginia Woolf, diary entry dated June 23rd, 1936

(Source: englishmajorinrepair)

5:39 am  167 notes

“… I feel like a shell with no machinery in it, the moment I try to use my mind at all; it’s no use, … anyway, I wish that I could write as charming and perfect letters under influenza as you do.”

— T. S. Eliot in a letter to Virginia Woolf

7:56 am  39 notes

““The proper stuff of fiction” does not exist; everything is the proper stuff of fiction, every feeling, every thought; every quality of brain and spirit is drawn upon; no perception comes amiss.”

Virginia Woolffrom her essay ”Modern Fiction”

2:32 pm  22 notes

newyorker:

Virginia Woolf, 1925. Photograph from Hulton Archive / Getty

2:32 pm  296 notes

newyorker:

Virginia Woolf, 1925. Photograph from Hulton Archive / Getty

blankdog:

Virginia Woolf
Flickr

2:28 pm  37 notes

blankdog:

Virginia Woolf

Flickr

“… it doesn’t matter how you’re born if you’ve got the right stuff in you.”

— Virginia Woolf, The Voyage Out

2:25 pm  27 notes

“With the movement of his body, the excitement, the romance and the richness of life crowded into his brain. He shouted out a line of poetry, but the words escaped him, and he stumbled among lines and fragments of lines which had no meaning at all except for the beauty of the words.”

Virginia Woolf, The Voyage Out

2:23 pm  13 notes