Each has his past shut in him like the leaves of a book shown to him by heart, and his friends can only read the title. – Virginia Woolf
When the shriveled skin of the ordinary is stuffed out with meaning, it satisfies the senses amazingly. – Virginia Woolf
Each has his past shut in him like the leaves of a book known to him by heart and his friends can only read the title. – Virginia Woolf
As for my next book, I am going to hold myself from writing it till I have it impending in me: grown heavy in my mind like a ripe pear; pendant, gravid, asking to be cut or it will fall. – Virginia Woolf