We shall be the mouthpieces of the divine spirit—

Why, he wondered, did people who had been asleep always want to make out that they were extremely wide-awake?

But I beneath a rougher sea, And whelmed in deeper gulfs than he.

Orlando naturally loved solitary places, vast views, and to feel himself for ever and ever and ever alone.

I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realises an emotion at the time. It expands later, and thus we don't have complete emotions about the present, only about the past.

Suppose the looking glass smashes, the image disappears, and the romantic figure with the green of forest depths all about it is there no longer, but only that shell of a person which is seen by other people - what an airless, shallow, bald, prominent world it becomes! A world not to be lived in. As we face each other in omnibuses and underground railways we are looking into the mirror that accounts for the vagueness, the gleam of glassiness, in our eyes.

I will achieve in my life - Heaven grant that it be not long - some gigantic amalgamation between the two discrepancies so hideously apparent to me. Out of my suffering I will do it. I will knock. I will enter.