virginia's vivid nightmares
archivemessage
It's far harder to kill a panthom than a reality.

And life, what was that? It was only a light passing over the surface and vanishing, as in time she would vanish, though the furniture in the room would remain. Her dissolution became so complete that she could not raise her finger any more, and sat perfectly still, listening and looking always at the same spot. It became stranger and stranger. She was overcome with awe that things should exist at all… . She forgot that she had any fingers to raise… . The things that existed were so immense and so desolate… . She continued to be conscious of these vast masses of substance for a long stretch of time, the clock still ticking in the midst of the universal silence.
Virginia Woolf, The Voyage Out | Permalink
  1. with-one-hand-waving-free reblogged this from vwvw
  2. dark-pool-of-the-mind reblogged this from vwvw
  3. ashes-to-ashes-funk-to-funky reblogged this from vwvw
  4. theredshoes reblogged this from vwvw
  5. vwvw posted this

theme