Up here my eyes are green leaves, unseeing.
A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.
That complete statement which is literature.
Orlando naturally loved solitary places, vast views, and to feel himself for ever and ever and ever alone.
She thought there were no Gods; no one was to blame; and so she evolved this atheist's religion of doing good for the sake of goodness.
One can only believe entirely, perhaps, in what one cannot see.