So the being grows rings — identity becomes robust. What was fiery and furtive like a fling of grain cast into the air and blown hither and thither by wild gusts of life from every quarter is now methodical and orderly and flung with a purpose--so it seems.
So the being grows rings — identity becomes robust. What was fiery and furtive like a fling of grain cast into the air and blown hither and thither by wild gusts of life from every quarter is now methodical and orderly and flung with a purpose--so it seems.
So the being grows rings — identity becomes robust. What was fiery and furtive like a fling of grain cast into the air and blown hither and thither by wild gusts of life from every quarter is now methodical and orderly and flung with a purpose--so it seems.
So the being grows rings — identity becomes robust. What was fiery and furtive like a fling of grain cast into the air and blown hither and thither by wild gusts of life from every quarter is now methodical and orderly and flung with a purpose--so it seems.
So the being grows rings — identity becomes robust. What was fiery and furtive like a fling of grain cast into the air and blown hither and thither by wild gusts of life from every quarter is now methodical and orderly and flung with a purpose--so it seems.
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So the being grows rings

— identity becomes robust. What was fiery and furtive like a fling of grain cast into the air and blown hither and thither by wild gusts of life from every quarter is now methodical and orderly and flung with a purpose--so it seems.
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virginia woolf the waves

More “Virginia woolf” Quotes

Stepping through fields of flowers and taking to her breast buds that had broken and lambs that had fallen — with the stars in her eyes and the wind in her hair— He took her bag.
Stepping through fields of flowers and taking to her brest buds that had broken and lambs that had fallen — with the stars in her eyes and wind in her hair– he took her bag.
It's too short,' she said, 'ever so much too short.' Never did anybody look so sad. Bitter and black, half-way down, in — Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse
When the white arm rests upon the knee it is a triangle; now it is upright - a column; now a fountain, falling. It makes — Virginia Woolf, The Waves
Something now leaves me; something goes from me to meet that figure who is coming, and assures me that I know him before — Virginia Woolf, The Waves
Either I shall find it, or I shall not find it. I examine my note-case. I look in all my pockets. These are the things t — Virginia Woolf, The Waves
I find myself saying briefly and prosaically that it is much more important to be oneself than anything else. Do not dre — Virginia Woolf, A Room of One's Own
The eyes of others our prisons — their thoughts our cages.
Sometimes she arches away from me and wears a light halo of genius about her. — Priya Parmar, Vanessa and Her Sister
She felt very young — at the same time unspeakably aged
Feelings that would not have disgraced a leader who, now that the snow has begun to fall and the mountain-top is covered — Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse
Just in case you ever foolishly forget — I'm never not thinking of you.