For pain words are lacking. There should be cries, cracks, fissures, whiteness passing over chintz covers, interference with the sense of time, of space ; the sense also of extreme fixity in passing objects ; and sounds very remote and then very close ; flesh being gashed and blood sparting, a joint suddenly twisted - beneath all of which appears something very important, yet remote, to be just held in solitude.” — Virginia Woolf, The Waves
Virginia WoolfOne likes people much better when they're battered down by a prodigious siege of misfortune than when they triumph.
Virginia WoolfI would venture to guess that Anon, who wrote so many poems without signing them, was often a woman.
Virginia Woolf