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Quote by Virginia Woolf

“Seule je tombe souvent dans le néant. Je dois poser le pied prudemment sur le rebord du monde, de peur de tomber dans le néant. Je suis forcée de me cogner la tête contre une porte bien dure, pour me contraindre à rentrer dans mon propre corps.”

Book:The Waves

Work

The Waves

This book is a profound exploration of human consciousness and the nature of reality, narrated through the eyes of six friends who grow up together and experience the complexities of life. more

Author

Virginia Woolf

British modernist writer, known for her unique narrative techniques and profound portrayal of female experience. Her works include 'To the Lighthouse' and 'Mrs. Dalloway'. more

“Crowded places, I shunned them as noises too rude And fled to the silence of sweet solitude. Where the flower in green darkness buds, blossoms, and fades, Unseen of all shepherds and flower-loving maids— The hermit bees find them but once and away. There I'll bury alive and in silence decay.”

Poetry Nature Solitude Noise

Book:Poems Chiefly from Manuscript

Source: Poems Chiefly from Manuscript

“O lead me onward to the loneliest shade, The darkest place that quiet ever made, Where kingcups grow most beauteous to behold And shut up green and open into gold.”

Poetry Peace Nature Solitude

Book:Poems Chiefly from Manuscript

Source: Poems Chiefly from Manuscript

“I took you to that windy hill where stars on every side fall away”

Solitude

Author:john j geddes

“We throw our parties; we abandon our families to live alone in Canada; we struggle to write books that do not change the world, despite our gifts and our unstinting efforts, our most extravagant hopes. We live our lives, do whatever we do, and then we sleep. It's as simple and ordinary as that. A few jump out windows, or drown themselves, or take pills; more die by accident; and most of us are slowly devoured by some disease, or, if we're very fortunate, by time itself. There's just this for consolation: an hour here or there when our lives seem, against all odds and expectations, to burst open and give us everything we've ever imagined, though everyone but children (and perhaps even they) know these hours will inevitably be followed by others, far darker and more difficult. Still, we cherish the city, the morning; we hope, more than anything, for more. Heaven only knows why we love it so...”