The mind is the most capricious of insects — flitting, fluttering. – Virginia Woolf
It is in our idleness, in our dreams, that the submerged truth sometimes comes to the top. – Virginia Woolf
The mind is the most capricious of insects — flitting, fluttering. – Virginia Woolf
It is in our idleness, in our dreams, that the submerged truth sometimes comes to the top. – Virginia Woolf
Nothing induces me to read a novel except when I have to make money by writing about it. I detest them. – Virginia Woolf
If one could be friendly with women, what a pleasure – the relationship so secret and private compared with relations with men. Why not write about it truthfully? – Virginia Woolf