Quotes from Virginia Woolf, The Waves

Up goes the rocket. Its golden grain falls, fertilising, upon the rich soil of my imagination.

I was always going to the bookcase for another sip of the divine specific.

When I am grown up I shall carry a notebook—a fat book with many pages, methodically lettered. I shall enter my phrases.

Among the tortures and devastations of life is this then—our friends are not able to finish their stories.

Like" and "like" and "like"--but what is the thing that lies beneath the semblance of the thing?

I begin to long for some little language such as lovers use, broken words, inarticulate words, like the shuffling of feet on pavement.

Death is woven in with the violets, " said Louis. "Death and again death.")

I strike spurs into my horse. Against you I will fling myself, unvanquished and unyielding, O Death!

I desired always to stretch the night and fill it fuller and fuller with dreams.

For this moment, this one moment, we are together. I press you to me. Come, pain, feed on me. Bury your fangs in my flesh. Tear me asunder. I sob, I sob.