“For now she need not think of anybody. She could be herself, by herself. And that was what now she often felt the need of - to think; well not even to think. To be silent; to be alone. All the being and the doing, expansive, glittering, vocal, evaporated; and one shrunk, with a sense of solemnity, to being oneself, a wedge-shaped core of darkness, something invisible to others... and this self having shed its attachments was free for the strangest adventures.”
― To the Lighthouse
― To the Lighthouse
“For books continue each other, in spite of our habit of judging them separately.”
― A Room of One's Own and Three Guineas
― A Room of One's Own and Three Guineas
“I worship you, but I loathe marriage. I hate its smugness, its safety, its compromise and the thought of you interfering with my work, hindering me; what would you answer? ”
―
―
“Her life was a tissue of vanity and deceit.”
― Mrs. Dalloway
― Mrs. Dalloway
“We felt the imprisonment of being a girl, the way it made your mind active and dreamy, and how you ended up knowing which colors went together. We knew that the girls were our twins, that we all existed in space like animals with identical skins, and that they knew everything about us though we couldn’t fathom them at all. We knew, finally, that the girls were really women in disguise, that they understood love and even death, and that our job was merely to create the noise that seemed to fascinate them.”
― The Virgin Suicides
― The Virgin Suicides
Xiniaa’s 2025 Year in Books
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