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"There must be another life, she thought, sinking back into her chair, exasperated. Not in dreams; but here and now, in this room, with living people. She felt as if she were standing on the edge of a precipice with her hair blown back; she was about to grasp something that just evaded her. There must be another life, here and now, she repeated. This is too short, too broken. We know nothing, even about ourselves."
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"As long as I have a want, I have a reason for living. Satisfaction is death."

"We're not outside the world... We are the world. We're its language. So we live and it lives. You see? If we don't say the words, what is their in our world?"

"In a sane world I should be a great man; as things are, in this curious establishment, I am nothing at all; to all intents and purposes I don't exist. I am just a Vox et preaterea nihil."

"And so, it is always the case that the past is irreparably land-locked, and the future has yet to land. And here we are, living out our lives on the precariously thin line which separates the two."

"Existence really is an imperfect tense that never becomes a present."

"The massive lump of flesh that has created you, me, and maybe, animals, everything that has life will forever live."
Explore more quotes by Virginia Woolf


"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."


"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."


"Yet it is in our idleness, in our dreams, that the submerged truth sometimes comes to the top."


"The connection between dress and war is not far to seek; your finest clothes are those you wear as soldiers."


"Life is not a series of gig lamps symmetrically arranged; life is a luminous halo, a semi-transparent envelope surrounding us from the beginning of consciousness to the end."


"Once conform, once do what other people do because they do it, and a lethargy steals over all the finer nerves and faculties of the soul. She becomes all outer show and inward emptiness; dull, callous, and indifferent."
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