Virginia Woolf Quotes About Dreams

Quotes about: Dreams

• There must be another life, she thought, sinking back into her chair, exasperated. Not in dreams; but here and now, in this room, with living people. She felt as if she were standing on the edge of a precipice with her hair blown back; she was about to grasp something that just evaded her. There must be another life, here and now, she repeated. This is too short, too broken. We know nothing, even about ourselves.

  Virginia Woolf

  Life, Dream, Hair

  Virginia Woolf (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Virginia Woolf (Illustrated)”, p.1819, Delphi Classics

• It is in our idleness, in our dreams, that the submerged truth sometimes comes to the top.

  Virginia Woolf

  Life, Dream, Truth

  Virginia Woolf (2007). “Selected Works of Virginia Woolf”, p.583, Wordsworth Editions

• He smiled the most exquisite smile, veiled by memory, tinged by dreams.

  Virginia Woolf

  Dream, Memories, Exquisite

  Virginia Woolf (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Virginia Woolf (Illustrated)”, p.1058, Delphi Classics

• By hook or by crook, I hope that you will possess yourselves of money enough to travel and to idle, to contemplate the future or the past of the world, to dream over books and loiter at street corners and let the line of thought dip deep into the stream

  Virginia Woolf

  Dream, Travel, Book

  Virginia Woolf (2007). “Selected Works of Virginia Woolf”, p.630, Wordsworth Editions

• it is strange how the dead leap out on us at street corners, or in dreams

  Virginia Woolf

  Dream, Strange, Chaos

  Virginia Woolf (2005). “The Waves”, p.235, Collector's Library

• The roar of the traffic, the passage of undifferentiated faces, this way and that way, drugs me into dreams; rubs the features from faces. People might walk through me. And what is this moment of time, this particular day in which I have found myself caught? The growl of traffic might be any uproar - forest trees or the roar of wild beasts. Time has whizzed back an inch or two on its reel; our short progress has been cancelled. I think also that our bodies are in truth naked. We are only lightly covered with buttoned cloth; and beneath these pavements are shells, bones and silence.

  Virginia Woolf

  Dream, Thinking, Two

  Virginia Woolf (2007). “Selected Works of Virginia Woolf”, p.691, Wordsworth Editions

• I will dream today; for I must unscrew my head somehow.

  Virginia Woolf

  Dream, Today

• He who robs us of our dreams robs us of our life.

  Virginia Woolf

  Dream, Our Dreams, Our Lives

  Virginia Woolf (2007). “Selected Works of Virginia Woolf”, p.497, Wordsworth Editions

• By the truth we are undone. Life is a dream. 'Tis the waking that kills us. He who robs us of our dreams robs us of our life.

  Virginia Woolf

  Dream, Waking, Life Is

  Virginia Woolf (2012). “Orlando: A Biography”, p.217, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

• Thus when I come to shape here at this table between my hands the story of my life and set it before you as a complete thing, I have to recall things gone far, gone deep, sunk into this life or that and become part of it; dreams, too, things surrounding me, and the inmates, those old half-articulate ghosts who keep up their hauntings by day and night... shadows of people one might have been; unborn selves.

  Virginia Woolf

  Dream, Night, Hands

  Virginia Woolf (2016). “The Waves”, p.214, Virginia Woolf

• It was a silly, silly dream, being unhappy.

  Virginia Woolf

  Dream, Silly, Unhappy

  Virginia Woolf (2012). “Mrs. Dalloway - Broadview Edition”, p.83, Broadview Press

• Every season is likeable, and wet days and fine, red wine and white, company and solitude. Even sleep, that deplorable curtailment of the joy of life, can be full of dreams; and the most common actions──a walk, a talk, solitude in one’s own orchard──can be enhanced and lit up by the association of the mind. Beauty is everywhere, and beauty is only two finger’s-breadth from goodness.

  Virginia Woolf

  Dream, Wine, Sleep

  "The Common Reader". Book by Virginia Woolf, 1925.

• His eyes were bright, and, indeed, he scarcely knew whether they held dreams or realities...and in five minutes she had filled the shell of the old dream with the flesh of life.

  Virginia Woolf

  Dream, Eye, Reality

• ...so now, Mrs. Ramsay thought, she could return to that dream land, that unreal but fascinating place, the Manning's drawing-room at Marlow twenty years ago; where one moved about without haste or anxiety, for there was no future to worry about. She knew what had happened to them, what to her. It was like reading a good book again, for she knew the end of that story, since it had happened twenty years ago, and life, which shot down even from this dining-room table in cascades, heaven knows where, was sealed up there, and lay, like a lake, placidly between its banks.

  Virginia Woolf

  Dream, Reading, Book

  Virginia Woolf (2007). “Selected Works of Virginia Woolf”, p.315, Wordsworth Editions

• Our friends - how distant, how mute, how seldom visited and little known. And I, too, am dim to my friends and unknown; a phantom, sometimes seen, often not. Life is a dream surely.

  Virginia Woolf

  Dream, Littles, Phantoms

  Virginia Woolf (2016). “The Waves”, p.204, Virginia Woolf

• Rhoda comes now, having slipped in while we were not looking. She must have made a tortuous course, taking cover now behind a waiter, now behind some ornamental pillar, so as to put off as long as possible the shock of recognition, so as to be secure for one more moment to rock her petals in her basin. We wake her. We torture her. She dreads us, she despises us, yet she comes cringing to our sides because for al our cruelty there is always some name, some face which sheds a radiance, which lights up her pavements and makes it possible for her to replenish her dreams.

  Virginia Woolf

  Dream, Light, Rocks

• I remember I would not stand still; I would not stop being perplexed by everything that spontaneously attracted me or caught my attention. I would never cease to look around me and observe myself in relation to nature: either crystal clear skies and sun-melting afternoons, or foggy winter days and weirdly tinted nights. I would never cease to dream and stand by the window, ready to let the diversity of life pass freely through my skin; courageous enough to believe I stood a chance in devouring each shade of sensation. Or perhaps, immensely foolish to plainly - believe at all.

  Virginia Woolf

  Dream, Believe, Winter

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