Virginia Woolf Quotes About Life Novels & Stories

I put the flowers in a glass on the windowsill. Not a vase. I did not own a vase in this apartment yet. A glass. The flowers in a glass on the windowsill of the Brooklyn apartment. Pale and unassuming and communicating nothing. Just there. I looked at them. I thought about the six sentence statement. About *I wish Mr. Wolfe and his family well.* About the specific quality of a thing done not for effect but because it was right. I had not known what right felt like for a long time. I was learning.

“Two things I could care absolutely less about. I want someone I have a connection with, someone I like.” I knew I was blushing all the way down to my neck, but I was too busy fighting for the words to say to care. “I definitely think you should be with someone you like. Life is too short to be with someone you can’t stand, and money isn’t everything.” “No, it really isn’t.” Holden’s voice softened as he spoke, his eyes trailing along my cheeks only to travel the length of my neck. When his eyes flickered back up to my own, they were brighter. “Could I draw you sometime, Violet?”

But…" "But what?" she asked. I sighed and looked around, making sure no one was too close. "I saw Victoria today." There was silence on the line for a beat. Then Olivia’s tone sharpened. "Did anything happened?" "She just... said a few things. Things about something I couldn't place my hand on. About how people always chooses what’s best for themselves, how they won’t choose someone like me." "That witch," Olivia hissed, and I could tell she's rolling her eyes as of the moment.

This was a great honor, but… He swallowed, pursed his lips, and said, “No, Sis Liv. There’s no need to waste money on me. My life...” “Fred, no one can define your life.” Fred stared at her blankly, a lump in his throat. Olivia gave him another piece of meat and said slowly, “When I was young, I was the apple of my parent’s eyes, but my life didn’t go according to plan, did it? “Until today, my life’s still not the life I thought it would be. “But whether it’s good or bad, I don’t let it be defined by the moment.”

" Besides, what can you do? We have been trying to fight this for over a decade, and you just said you might be able to help! With what? Carrying corpse and consoling the family of the dead?" Violet was irked by his sarcastic tone, and she rolled her eyes. " Haven't you heard of the saying, what a man can do? A woman can do better." She curled her lips in a mocking manner. Ralph raised his brows and shook his head. This woman was really something! So shameless! Violet seized Ralph up and down and took a seat beside him. " Just tell me, I really want to know." Ralph sighed in his heart..

I was not supposed to make myself a laughing stock ahead of any men and the frivolous thing I ever did I stumbled on one. especially to that man who considered me nothing. I know nothing can be a precise word if you have to describe someone, but how a living creature inhaling oxygen every day be considered nothing? the world can never be considered seldom and any woman with sanity in her mind is the heart of the world who can never be considered frivolity. I know the world can't be described in a sentence, my life or anybody's life can never be described in a sentence. he asked me who am I?

I didn’t remember much that night. But I knew for a fact that the cab ride was quick because Xavier said we should go to his place instead of mine, which was probably over half an hour away. He lived closer to Soho, and I enjoyed him speaking something dirty into my ears while we were in the car. He knew his words that made me wet. We ignored the cab driver’s judgmental gaze. It was not like we would meet him again. Life was too short to refrain and be proper on a night like this, a night when everything seemed to exist only in the moments. And I always take that one of Oscar Wild’s quotes seriously, the one he wrote that life is a moment, and one should make it always burn with the hardest

Fiona’s POV There is this quote from Robert Tea which I read up somewhere which says that, “Broken people are beautiful. They have to put themselves back every day.” The simplicity of this quote resonated with something within me. Something hollow and broken, something tired of fighting to stay alive.

he said. "I think it's because I've spent my whole life making things to leave behind," she said. "The work outlasts you. That was the amphitheatre thought." She paused. "But I've been thinking about the other version. The things left behind by accident. Not the work you made. The life you lived." She looked at the table. "The people who come after you and carry things they didn't choose to carry." Viktor was very still. "Elena," he said. Quiet. Careful.

‘Yet these were the people with money, and to them rather than to others was given the management of the world. The second sentence scared me more. ‘Put among them someone more vital, who cared for life or for beauty, and what an agony, what a waste would they inflict on him if he tried to share with them and not to scourge.’ My note at the bottom indicated we had to say what the passage from Virginia Woolf meant and find the meaning of ‘scourge,’ in that context. Such a pity I no longer had my original answer to the exercise. Was I that more vital person and Vera had deliberately put me among them?