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"Again, somehow, one saw life, a pure bead. I lifted the pencil again, useless though I knew it to be. But even as I did so, the unmistakable tokens of death showed themselves. The body relaxed, and instantly grew stiff. The struggle was over. The insignificant little creature now knew death. As I looked at the dead moth, this minute wayside triumph of so great a force over so mean an antagonist filled me with wonder. Just as life had been strange a few minutes before, so death was now as strange."
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"I leaned against the desk, ran my hand over my father's paperwork, and picked up a pen. Turning around, I shoved it into my father's hand. 'What's this?' he asked, raising a brow. 'You'll need it to sign my death certificate, ' I said, pain vibrating my veins against my muscles and bones. 'Are we done now? (Eric)"
"It is difficult to accept death in this society because it is unfamiliar. In spite of the fact that it happens all the time, we never see it."
Explore more quotes by Virginia Woolf
"There is much to support the view that it is clothes that wear us, and not we, them; we may make them take the mould of arm or breast, but they mould our hearts, our brains, our tongues to their liking."
"The truth is, I often like women. I like their unconventionality. I like their completeness. I like their anonymity."
"The telephone, which interrupts the most serious conversations and cuts short the most weighty observations, has a romance of its own."
"It is the nature of the artist to mind excessively what is said about him. Literature is strewn with the wreckage of men who have minded beyond reason the opinions of others."
"Let a man get up and say, Behold, this is the truth, and instantly I perceive a sandy cat filching a piece of fish in the background. Look, you have forgotten the cat, I say."
"Who shall measure the hat and violence of the poet's heart when caught and tangled in a woman's body?"
"The beauty of the world, which is so soon to perish, has two edges, one of laughter, one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder."
"This is an important book, the critic assumes, because it deals with war. This is an insignificant book because it deals with the feelings of women in a drawing-room."
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