He will forget me. He will leave my letters lying about among guns and dogs unanswered. I shall send him poems and he will perhaps reply with a picture post card. But it is for that that I love him. I...
He turned from the sight of human ignorance and human fate and the sea eating the ground we stand on, which, had he been able to contemplate it fixedly might have led to something; and found consolati...
He smiled the most exquisite smile, veiled by memory, tinged by dreams.
Fatigue is the safest sleeping draught.
Books are everywhere; and always the same sense of adventure fills us. Second-hand books are wild books, homeless books; they have come together in vast flocks of variegated feather, and have a charm...
Blame it or praise it, there is no denying the wild horse in us.
And since a novel has this correspondence to real life, its values are to some extent those of real life. But it is obvious that the values of women differ very often from the values which have been m...
Among the tortures and devestations of life is this then - our friends are not able to finish their stories.
As for my next book I am going to hold myself from writing it till I have it impending in me: grown heavy in my mind like a ripe pear pendant gravid asking to be cut or it will fall.
Each has his past shut in him like the leaves of a book shown to him by heart and his friends can only read the title.
Money dignifies what is frivolous if unpaid for.
Different though the sexes are, they inter-mix. In every human being a vacillation from one sex to the other takes place, and often it is only the clothes that keep the male or female likeness, while...
Needless to say, the business of living interferes with the solitude so needed for any work of the imagination. Here's what Virginia Woolf said in her diary about the sticky issue: "I've shirked two p...
Why should a real chair be better than an imaginary elephant?
the battered woman--for she wore a skirt--with her right hand exposed, her left clutching at her side, stood singing of love--love which has lasted a million years, she sang, love which prevails, and...
Odd how the creative power at once brings the whole universe to order.
If we help an educated man's daughter to go to Cambridge are we not forcing her to think not about education but about war? - not how she can learn, but how she can fight in order that she might win t...
The beautiful seems right by force of beauty, and the feeble wrong because of weakness.
You have been reading Byron. You have been marking the passages that seem to approve of your own character. I find marks against all those sentences which seem to express a sardonic yet passionate nat...
Yes, she thought, laying down her brush in extreme fatigues, I have had my vision.