on writing - virginia woolf

For it would seem - her case proved it - that we write, not with the fingers,
but with the whole person. The nerve which controls the pen winds itself
about every fibre of our being, threads the heart, pierces the liver.

- Virginia Woolf, Orlando

By Michaela Coney

the well written - virginia woolf

Beauty, the world seemed to say. And as if to prove it (scientifically) wherever he looked
at the houses, at the railings, at the antelopes stretching over the palings, beauty sprang
instantly. To watch a leaf quivering in the rush of air was an exquisite joy. Up in the sky
swallows swooping, swerving, flinging themselves in and out, round and round, yet always
with perfect control as if elastics held them; and the flies rising and falling; and the sun
spotting now this leaf, now that, in mockery, dazzling it with soft gold in pure good temper;
and now again some chime (it might be a motor horn) tinkling divinely on the grass stalks
—all of this, calm and reasonable as it was, made out of ordinary things as it was, was the
truth now; beauty, that was the truth now. Beauty was everywhere.

- Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway

By Viva Waite