“What is the use, she thought, of trying to tell people about one’s past? What is one’s past? She stared at the pot with the blue knot loosely tied in the yellow glaze. Why did I come, she thought, when they only laugh at me?” —Virginia Woolf,The Years. (via fuckyeahvirginiawoolf)
“It is probably always disastrous not to be a poet.” —Lytton Strachey, Elizabeth and Essex, 1928.
“The snob is a flutter-brained, hare-brained creature so little satisfied with his or her own standing that in order to consolidate it he or she is always flourishing a title or an honour in other people’s faces so that they may believe and help him to believe what he does not really believe – that he or she is somehow a person of importance.” —Virginia Woolf, “Am I A Snob?”, from Moments of Being.