Eloquent, profoundly melancholic, intelligent and deeply wise, sentimental and provocative yet always raw in terms of emotion, Virginia Woolf was a woman entirely ahead of her time. This is made with much love and respect in her memory.
But one only woke people if one knew what one wanted to say to them. And she wanted to say not one thing, but everything. Little words that broke up the thought and dismembered it said nothing. ‘About life, about death…’ - No, she thought, one could say nothing to nobody. The urgency of the moment always missed its mark. Words fluttered sideways and struck the object inches too low. Then one gave it up; then the idea sank back again; then one became like most middle-aged people, cautious, furtive, with wrinkles between the eyes and a look of perpetual apprehension. For how could one express these emotions? Express that emptiness there?
Virginia Woolf, To The Lighthouse (via violentwavesofemotion)
- ? Oct 18th 2012