Top 72 Virginia Woolf Love Quotes
#1. Septimus has been working too hard - that was all she could say to her own mother. To love makes one solitary, she thought.
Virginia Woolf
#2. Love and religion! thought Clarissa, going back into the drawing room, tingling all over. How detestable, how detestable they are!
Virginia Woolf
#3. To put it in a nutshell, he was afflicted with a love of literature. It was the fatal nature of this disease to substitute a phantom for reality.
Virginia Woolf
#4. He is precisely the young man to fall headlong in love and repent it for the rest of his life.
Virginia Woolf
#6. How are we to account for the strange human craving for the pleasure of feeling afraid which is so much involved in our love of ghost stories?
Virginia Woolf
#7. First she starved herself of love, which meant also life; then of poetry in deference to what she thought her religion demanded.
Virginia Woolf
#8. For I am more selves than Neville thinks. We are not as simple as our friends would have us to meet our needs. Yet love is simple.
Virginia Woolf
#9. There was something solemn in it- but love and religion would destroy that, whatever it was, the privacy of the soul.
Virginia Woolf
#10. Her eyes seemed to question, to commiserate, to be, for a second, love itself.
Virginia Woolf
#11. I love reading other people's diaries, especially someone like Virginia Woolf's - such a formidable woman that it's a revelation when she shows you a more vulnerable side of herself.
Michael Palin
#13. I like it when people actually come, but I love it when they go.
Virginia Woolf
#14. What could be more serious than the love of man for woman, what more commanding, more impressive, bearing in its bosom the seeds of death; at the same time these lovers, these people entering into illusion glittering eyed, must be danced round with mockery, decorated with garlands.
Virginia Woolf
#15. Just in case you ever foolishly forget; I'm never not thinking of you.
Virginia Woolf
#16. I've cared for heaps of people, but not to marry them' she said. 'I suppose I'm too fastidious. all my life I've wanted somebody I could look up to, somebody great and big and splendid. Most men are so small.'
'What d;you mean by splendid?' Hewet asked. 'People are-nothing more.
Virginia Woolf
#17. Communication is truth; communication is happiness. To share is our duty; to go down boldly and bring to light those hidden thoughts which are the most diseased; to conceal nothing; to pretend nothing; if we are ignorant to say so; if we love our friends to let them know it.
Virginia Woolf
#18. She felt drawing further from her and further from her an Archduke,
(she did not mind that)
a fortune,
(she did not mind that)
the safety and circumstance of married life,
(she did not mind that)
but life she heard going from her, and a lover.
Virginia Woolf
#19. That people should love like this, that Mr. Bankes should feel this for Mrs. Ramsay (she glanced at him musing) was helpful, was exalting.
Virginia Woolf
#20. I would never re-write you. You are by far my most complete and greatest novel.
Virginia Woolf
#21. Peace was the third emotion. Love. Hate. Peace. Three emotions made the ply of human life.
Virginia Woolf
#22. You're going to go on dreaming and imagining and making up stories about me as you walk along the street, and pretending that we're riding in a forest, or landing on an island - '
'No. I shall think of you ordering dinner, paying bills, doing the accounts, showing old ladies the relics -
Virginia Woolf
#23. One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well.
Virginia Woolf
#24. What does the brain matter compared with the heart?
Virginia Woolf
#26. This was a favourite dress, one of Sally Parker's, the last almost she ever made, alas, for Sally had now retired, living at Ealing, and if ever I have a moment, thought Clarissa (but never would she have a moment any more), I shall go and see her at Ealing.
Virginia Woolf
#27. To look life in the face, always, to look life in the face, and to know it for what it is ... at last, to love it for what it is, and then, to put it away ...
Virginia Woolf
#28. On their faces an expression like the letters of a legend, written around the base of a statue praising duty, gratitude, fidelity, love of England ...
Virginia Woolf
#29. We seem to be riding on the top of the highest mast of the tallest ship; and yet at the same time we know that nothing of this sort matters; love is not proved thus, nor great achievements completed thus; so that we sport with the moment and preen our feathers in it lightly.
Virginia Woolf
#30. Through other people's bodies she felt neither love nor hate distinctly. Most consciously she felt - she had drunk sweet wine at luncheon - a desire for water. "A beaker of cold water, a beaker of cold water," she repeated, and saw water surrounded by walls of shining glass.
Virginia Woolf
#31. (But he could not bring himself to say he loved her; not in so many words.)
Virginia Woolf
#32. Let us again pretend that life is a solid substance, shaped like a globe, which we turn about in our fingers. Let us pretend that we can make out a plain and logical story, so that when one matter is despatched - love for instance - we go on, in an orderly manner, to the next.
Virginia Woolf
#33. Faces and faces, served out like soup-plates by scullions; coarse, greedy, casual; looking in at shopwindows with pendent parcels; ogling, brushing, destroying everything, leaving even our love impure, touched now by their dirty fingers.
Virginia Woolf
#34. There can be no doubt, I thought, pushing aside the newspaper, that our mean lives, unsightly as they are, put on splendour and have meaning only under the eyes of love
Virginia Woolf
#35. Anyhow, she thought, they are aware of each other; they live in each other; what else is love, she asked, listening to their laughter.
Virginia Woolf
#36. I am all the time thinking about poetry and fiction and you.
Virginia Woolf
#37. Deffand fell in love with him, and thought that at her age she could
Virginia Woolf
#38. In all the books love is one of the great facts that mould human life. But it is a catastrophe: it happens suddenly and overwhelmingly, and there is little to be said about it.
Virginia Woolf
#39. Meanwhile, let us abolish the ticking of time's clock with one blow. Come closer.
Virginia Woolf
#40. Love ought to stop on both sides, don't you think, simultaneously?' He spoke without any stress on the words, so as not to wake the sleepers. 'But it won't - that's the devil,' he added in the same undertone.
Virginia Woolf
#41. If this is love, there is something highly ridiculous about it.
Virginia Woolf
#44. What art was there, known to love or cunning, by which one pressed through into those secret chambers?
Virginia Woolf
#45. To be engaged to marry some one with whom you are not in love is an inevitable step in a world where the existence of passion is only a traveler's story brought from the heart of deep forests and told so rarely that wise people doubt whether the story can be true.
Virginia Woolf
#46. She put on her lace collar. She put on her new hat and he never noticed; and he was happy without her.
Virginia Woolf
#47. For love ... has two faces; one white, the other black; two bodies; one smooth, the other hairy. It has two hands, two feet, two tails, two, indeed, of every member and each one is the exact opposite of the other. Yet, so strictly are they joined together
Virginia Woolf
#48. I think the kind of unexpected I really love is when you open books and the actual way of writing is different and interesting. Like reading Virginia Woolf for the first time or Lawrence Durrell for the first time.
Lalla Ward
#49. He called her a melon, a pineapple, an olive tree, an emerald, and a fox in the snow all in the space of three seconds; he did not know whether he had heard her, tasted her, seen her, or all three together.
Virginia Woolf
#50. That silence is more profound after noise still wants the confirmation of science. But that loneliness is more apparent directly after one has been made love to, many women would take their oath.
Virginia Woolf
#51. And if we can imagine the art of fiction come alive and standing in our midst, she would undoubtedly bid us break her and bully her, as well as honour and love her, for so her youth is renewed and her sovereignty assured.
Virginia Woolf
#52. Clumsiness is often mated with a love of solitude.
Virginia Woolf
#53. But nothing is so strange when one is in love (and what was this except being in love?) as the complete indifference of other people.
Virginia Woolf
#54. They became part of that unreal but penetrating and exciting universe which is the world seen through the eyes of love
Virginia Woolf
#55. Writing is a divine art, and the more I write and read the more I love it.
Virginia Woolf
#57. But with you I am deeply passionately, unrequitedly in love.
Virginia Woolf
#58. To love makes one solitary, she thought. She could tell nobody, not even Septimus now ...
Virginia Woolf
#59. One does not love a place the less because one has suffered in it.
Virginia Woolf
#60. Romantic Love is only an Illusion. A story one makes up in One's Mind about Another Person.
Virginia Woolf
#61. It was love, she thought, pretending to move her canvas, distilled and filtered; love that never attempted to clutch its object; but, like the love which mathematicians bear their symbols, or poets their phrases, was meant to be spread over the world and become part of the human gain.
Virginia Woolf
#62. But our hatred is almost indistinguishable from our love.
Virginia Woolf
#63. It was protective, on her side; sprang from a sense of being in league together, a presentiment of something that was bound to part them (they spoke of marriage always as a catastrophe), which led to this chivalry, this protective feeling which was much more on her side than Sally's.
Virginia Woolf
#65. Love had meant nothing to him but sawdust and cinders.
Virginia Woolf
#66. I begin to long for some little language such as lovers use, broken words, inarticulate words, like the shuffling of feet on pavement.
Virginia Woolf
#67. Love. Hate. Peace. Three emotion made the ply of human life.
Virginia Woolf
#68. Milly Brush once might almost have fallen in love with these silences.
Virginia Woolf
#70. For such gestures one falls hopelessly in love for a lifetime
Virginia Woolf
#71. I fell in love with Virginia Woolf in college. I especially admire how well she writes about daily life, how she captures so much meaning and consequence in the smallest details of a day.
Karen Thompson Walker
#72. Writing is like sex. First you do it for love, then you do it for your friends, and then you do it for money.
Virginia Woolf
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