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Virginia Woolf

"When I cannot see words curling like rings of smoke round me I am in darkness-I am nothing."

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"When I cannot see words curling like rings of smoke round me I am in darkness-I am nothing."

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Amber Hurdle

"He that resolves to deal with none but honest men must leave off dealing."

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Amber Hurdle

"It isn't a natural thing to keep on worrying about the morality of one's material prosperity. These are proclivities superinduced by modern conditions of the conscience. There is a natural resistance in every healthy human being to such distressful heart-searchings."

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Amber Hurdle

"The task of the moral philosopher-thinker is to support and strengthen the voice of human conscience, to recognize what is good or what is bad for people, whether they are good or bad for society in a period of evolution. May be a "voice crying in the wilderness", but only if that voice remains lively and uncompromising, it is possible to transform the desert into fertile land."

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Amber Hurdle

"You cannot sensibly expect a starving 'God-fearing' man to honor the 8th commandment."

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Amber Hurdle

"If practicality and morality are polarized and you must choose, you must do what you think is right, rather than what you think is practical."

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Amber Hurdle

"Roman Catholicism is a broken and utterly desperate thing, capable only of malignant mischief in our awakening world."

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Amber Hurdle

"Never mistaken humility for foolishness, nor pride for power."

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Amber Hurdle

"I resent being lied to because a lie doesn't only undermine the value of the truth, but it further denies the liar a fair chance for honesty."

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Amber Hurdle

"Let every man be respected as an individual and no man idolized."

Explore more quotes by Virginia Woolf

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Virginia Woolf
"One should be a painter. As a writer, I feel the beauty, which is almost entirely colour, very subtle, very changeable, running over my pen, as if you poured a large jug of champagne over a hairpin."
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Virginia Woolf
"I spent an hour looking at pots and carpets in the museums the other day, until the desire to describe them became like the desire for the lusts of the flesh."
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Virginia Woolf
"A woman, she had provoked this horror; a woman, she shouldh ave known how to deal with it. It was immesley to her discredit, sexually, to stand there dumb. One said - what did one say? - Oh, Mr. Ramsay! Dear Mr. Ramsay! That was what that kind old lady who sketched, Mrs. Beckwith, would have said instantly, and rightly. But, no. They stood there, isolated from the rest of the world. His immesnse self-pity, his demand for sympathy poured and and spread itself in pools at her feet, and all she did, miserable sinner that she was, was to draw her skirts a little closer round her ankles, lest she should get wet."
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Virginia Woolf
"I meant to write about death, only life came breaking in as usual."
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Virginia Woolf
"How then did it work out, this? How did one judge people, think of them? How did one add up this and that and conclude that it was liking one felt, or disliking?"
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Virginia Woolf
"Fiction is like a spider's web, attached ever so slightly perhaps, but still attached to life at all four corners. Often the attachment is scarcely perceptible."
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Virginia Woolf
"He should be very proud of Andrew if he got a scholarship, he said. She would be just as proud of him if he didn't, she answered. They disagreed always about this, but it did not matter. She liked him to believe in scholarships, and he liked her to be proud of Andrew whatever he did."
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Virginia Woolf
"Do you know I get such a passion for reading sometimes its like the other passion -writing- only the wrong side of the carpet."
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Virginia Woolf
"If Shakespeare had never existed, he asked, would the world have differed much from what it is today? Does the progress of civilization depend upon great men? Is the lot of the average human being better now that in the time of the Pharaohs?"
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Virginia Woolf
"Yet Byron never made tea as you do, who fill the pot so that when you put the lid on the tea spills over. There is a brown pool on the table-it is running among your books and papers. Now you mop it up, clumsily, with your pocket-hankerchief. You then stuff your hankerchief back into your pocket-that is not Byron; that is so essentially you that if I think of you in twenty years' time, when we are both famous, gouty and intolerable, it will be by that scene: and if you are dead, I shall weep."
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