Virginia Woolf

England
25 Jan 1882 // 28 Mar 1941
Writer

Texts

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Here We Go Alone (1)

That illusion of a world so shaped that it echoes every groan, of human beings so tied together by common needs and fears that a twitch at one wrist jerks another, where however strange your experien...
On Being Ill

The Body of Time (2)

Time, unfortunately, though it makes animals and vegetables bloom and fade with amazing punctuality, has no such simple effect upon the mind of man. The mind of man, moreover, works with equal strang...
Orlando

Do not Sacrifice your Vision (3)

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 o...
A Room of One's Own

Nothing Lasts Too Long (4)

Nothing could be slow enough, nothing lasts too long. No pleasure could equal, she thought, straightening the chairs, pushing in one book on the shelf, this having done with the triumphs of youth, lo...
Mrs. Dalloway

Memory Rules Us (5)

Memory is the seamstress, and a capricious one at that. Memory runs her needle in and out, up and down, hither and thither. We know not what comes next, or what follows after. Thus, the most ordinary...
Orlando

What Books Can Give Us (6)

Few people ask from books what books can give us. Most commonly we come to books with blurred and divided minds, asking of fiction that it shall be true, of poetry that it shall be false, of biograph...
The Second Common Reader

The Constant Fight and Glory (7)

All this pitting of sex against sex, of quality against quality; all this claiming of superiority and imputing of inferiority, belong to the private-school stage of human existence where there are "s...
A Room of One's Own

The Manner of Our Seeing (8)

It seems that a profound, impartial, and absolutely just opinion of our fellow-creatures is utterly unknown. Either we are men, or we are women. Either we are cold, or we are sentimental. Either we a...
Jacob's Room

The Human Pattern (9)

Behind the cotton wool is hidden a pattern; that we I mean all human beings are connected with this; that the whole world is a work of art; that we are parts of the work of art. Hamlet or a Beeth...
Moments of Being

Follow Your Instincts on Reading (10)

The only advice, indeed, that one person can give another about reading is to take no advice, to follow your own instincts, to use your own reason, to come to your own conclusions. If this is agreed ...
The Second Common Reader
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On Anger: "For every minute you remain angry, you give up sixty seconds of peace of mind."
Essays
On Destiny: "Our destiny exercises its influence over us even when, as yet, we have not learned its nature: it is our future that lays down the law of our today."
Human, All Too Human
On Friendship: "A crowd is not company; and faces are but a gallery of pictures; and talk but a tinkling cymbal, where there is no love."
Essays