Virginia Woolf Quotes About Birds

Quotes about: Birds

• How much better is silence; the coffee cup, the table. How much better to sit by myself like the solitary sea-bird that opens its wings on the stake. Let me sit here for ever with bare things, this coffee cup, this knife, this fork, things in themselves, myself being myself.

  Virginia Woolf

  Coffee, Sea, Knives

  Virginia Woolf (2005). “The Waves”, p.253, Collector's Library

• The sigh of all the seas breaking in measure round the isles soothed them; the night wrapped them; nothing broke their sleep, until, the birds beginning and the dawn weaving their thin voices in to its whiteness

  Virginia Woolf

  Sleep, Night, Sea

  Virginia Woolf (2015). “To the Lighthouse”, p.112, Virginia Woolf

• scarcely a human being in the course of history has fallen to a woman's rifle; the vast majority of birds and beasts have been killed by you, not by us. Obviously there is for you some glory, some necessity, some satisfaction in fighting which we have never felt or enjoyed.

  Virginia Woolf

  Fighting, Bird, Satisfaction

  Virginia Woolf (2014). “Three Guineas (Annotated)”, p.81, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

• She tapped on the window with her embossed hairbrush. They were too far off to hear. The drone of the trees was in their ears; the chirp of birds; other incidents of garden life, inaudible, invisible to her in the bedroom, absorbed them. Isolated on a green island, hedged about with snowdrops, laid with a counterpane of puckered silk, the innocent island floated under her window. Only George lagged behind.

  Virginia Woolf

  Garden, Islands, Bird

  Virginia Woolf (2007). “Selected Works of Virginia Woolf”, p.933, Wordsworth Editions

• The melancholy river bears us on. When the moon comes through the trailing willow boughs, I see your face, I hear your voice and the bird singing as we pass the osier bed. What are you whispering? Sorrow, sorrow. Joy, joy. Woven together, like reeds in moonlight.

  Virginia Woolf

  Moon, Voice, Rivers

  Virginia Woolf (2015). “The String Quartet”, p.5, Booklassic

• The light struck upon the trees in the garden, making one leaf transparent and then another. One bird chirped high up; there was a pause; another chirped lower down. The sun sharpended the walls of the house, and rested like the tip of a fan upon a white blind and made a fingerprint of a shadow under the leaf by the bedroom window. The blind stirred slightly, but all within was dim and unsubstantial. The birds sang their blank melody outside.

  Virginia Woolf

  Wall, Garden, Light

• We do not know our own souls, let alone the souls of others. Human beings do not go hand in hand the whole stretch of the way. There is a virgin forest in each; a snowfield where even the print of birds' feet is unknown. Here we go alone, and like it better so. Always to have sympathy, always to be accompanied, always to be understood would be intolerable.

  Virginia Woolf

  Hands, Feet, Bird

  Virginia Woolf, David Bradshaw (2009). “Selected Essays”, p.104, Oxford University Press

• Outside the trees dragged their leaves like nets through the depths of the air; the sound of water was in the room and through the waves came the voices of birds singing.

  Virginia Woolf

  Air, Voice, Water

  Virginia Woolf (2007). “Selected Works of Virginia Woolf”, p.216, Wordsworth Editions

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