He who robs us of our dreams robs us of our life. - Virginia Woolf, Orlando
"He who robs us of our dreams robs us of our life."
"He who robs us of our dreams robs us of our life."
"Was not writing poetry a secret transaction, a voice answering a voice?"
"Love, the poet said, is woman's whole existence."
"For once the disease of reading has laid upon the system it weakens so that it falls an easy prey to that other scourge which dwells in the ink pot and festers in the quill. The wretch takes to writing."
"Green in nature is one thing, green in literature another. Nature and letters seem to have a natural antipathy; bring them together and they tear each other to pieces."
"The flower bloomed and faded. The sun rose and sank. The lover loved and went. And what the poets said in rhyme, the young translated into practice."