I am to be broken. I am to be derided all my life. I am to be cast up and down among these men and women, with their twitching faces, with their lying tongues, like a cork on a rough sea. Like a ribbon of weed I am flung far every time the door opens.
Virginia WoolfThere is something I want-something I have come to get, and she fell deeper and deeper without knowing quite what it was, with her eyes closed.
Virginia WoolfAnd now more than anything I want beautiful prose. I relish it more and more exquisitely.
Virginia WoolfI feel my brains, like a pear, to see if it's ripe; it will be exquisite by September.
Virginia WoolfHere I come to one of the memoir writer's difficulties -- one of the reasons why, though I read so many, so many are failures. They leave out the person to whom things happened. The reason is that it is so difficult to describe any human being. So they say: 'This is what happened'; but they do not say what the person was like to whom it happened. And the events mean very little unless we know first to whom they happened.
Virginia Woolf