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" My own brain is to me the most unaccountable of machinery - always buzzing, humming, soaring roaring diving, and then buried in mud. And why? What's this passion for? "
Virginia Woolf
Brain
My Own
Mud
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" I thought how unpleasant it is to be locked out; and I thought how it is worse, perhaps, to be locked in. "
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" 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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" As a woman I have no country. As a woman my country is the whole world. "
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" It is in our idleness, in our dreams, that the submerged truth sometimes comes to the top. "
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" If you insist upon fighting to protect me, or 'our' country, let it be understood soberly and rationally between us that you are fighting to gratify a sex instinct which I cannot share; to procure benefits where I have not shared and probably will not share. "
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" When the shriveled skin of the ordinary is stuffed out with meaning, it satisfies the senses amazingly. "
Virginia Woolf
Senses
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" The history of men's opposition to women's emancipation is more interesting perhaps than the story of that emancipation itself. "
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Interesting
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" The telephone, which interrupts the most serious conversations and cuts short the most weighty observations, has a romance of its own. "
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" For what Harley Street specialist has time to understand the body, let alone the mind or both in combination, when he is a slave to thirteen thousand a year? "
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" Sleep, that deplorable curtailment of the joy of life. "
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Deplorable
" 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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" To depend upon a profession is a less odious form of slavery than to depend upon a father. "
Virginia Woolf
Slavery
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Than
" One of the signs of passing youth is the birth of a sense of fellowship with other human beings as we take our place among them. "
Virginia Woolf
Human
Birth
Youth
" That great Cathedral space which was childhood. "
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Space
Childhood
Great
" 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. "
Virginia Woolf
Artist
Him
Men
" Some people go to priests; others to poetry; I to my friends. "
Virginia Woolf
Poetry
People
Go
" The older one grows, the more one likes indecency. "
Virginia Woolf
Older
More
Grows
" It seems as if an age of genius must be succeeded by an age of endeavour; riot and extravagance by cleanliness and hard work. "
Virginia Woolf
Work
Genius
Hard
" Why are women... so much more interesting to men than men are to women? "
Virginia Woolf
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Why
Much
" It's not catastrophes, murders, deaths, diseases, that age and kill us; it's the way people look and laugh, and run up the steps of omnibuses. "
Virginia Woolf
Age
Way
Look
" You cannot find peace by avoiding life. "
Virginia Woolf
Avoiding
Cannot
Find
" It is far harder to kill a phantom than a reality. "
Virginia Woolf
Harder
Than
Far
" A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction. "
Virginia Woolf
Own
Write
Money
" I read the book of Job last night, I don't think God comes out well in it. "
Virginia Woolf
Last
Job
God
" The beautiful seems right by force of beauty, and the feeble wrong because of weakness. "
Virginia Woolf
Beauty
Weakness
Right
" Great bodies of people are never responsible for what they do. "
Virginia Woolf
Responsible
People
Never
" The truth is, I often like women. I like their unconventionality. I like their completeness. I like their anonymity. "
Virginia Woolf
Anonymity
Women
Truth
" This is not writing at all. Indeed, I could say that Shakespeare surpasses literature altogether, if I knew what I meant. "
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Say
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" One likes people much better when they're battered down by a prodigious siege of misfortune than when they triumph. "
Virginia Woolf
Down
People
Triumph
" On the outskirts of every agony sits some observant fellow who points. "
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Some
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Agony