Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself.

Praise and blame alike mean nothing. No, delightful as the pastime of measuring may be, it is the most futile of all occupations, and to submit to the decrees of the measurers the most servile of attitudes.

I see you everywhere, in the stars, in the river, to me you're everything that exists; the reality of everything.

I read the book of Job last night, I don't think God comes out well in it.

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

Ruin, weariness, death, perpetually death, stand grimly to confront the other presence of Elizabethan drama which is life: life compact of frigates, fir trees and ivory, of dolphins and the juice of July flowers, of the milk of unicorns and panthers’ breath, of ropes of pearl, brains of peacocks and Cretan wine.

Better was it to go unknown and leave behind you an arch, then to burn like a meteor and leave no dust.