Virginia Woolf

Melancholy were the sounds on a winter's night. ↗

— Virginia Woolf

#night #sad #winter #winter

Literature is strewn with the wreckage of those who have minded beyond reason the opinion of others. ↗

— Virginia Woolf

#reading #writing #opinions

Arrange whatever pieces come your way. ↗

— Virginia Woolf

#come #pieces #way #whatever #your

I am reading six books at once, the only way of reading; since, as you will agree, one book is only a single unaccompanied note, and to get the full sound, one needs ten others at the same time. ↗

— Virginia Woolf

#letters

The beauty of the world...has two edges, one of laughter, one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder. ↗

— Virginia Woolf

#inspirational #beauty

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. ↗

— Virginia Woolf

#age

When I cannot see words curling like rings of smoke round me I am in darkness—I am nothing. ↗

— Virginia Woolf

#inspirational #language #virginia-woolf #writing-philosophy #inspirational

Never let anybody guess that you have a mind of your own. Above all be pure ↗

— Virginia Woolf

#inspirational

What does the brain matter compared with the heart? ↗

— Virginia Woolf

#love #love

Fiction is like a spider's web, attached ever so lightly perhaps, but still attached to life at all four corners. ↗

— Virginia Woolf

#fiction-writing #on-fiction #life