If woman had no existence save in the fiction written by men, one would imagine her a person of utmost importance; very various; heroic and mean; splendid and sordid; infinitely beautiful and hideous in the extreme; as great as a man; some think even greater.
Virginia WoolfMy mind turned by anxiety, or other cause, from its scrutiny of blank paper, is like a lost childโwandering the house, sitting on the bottom step to cry.
Virginia Woolf