Virginia Woolf Quotes About Writing

We have collected for you the TOP of Virginia Woolf's best quotes about Writing! Here are collected all the quotes about Writing starting from the birthday of the Writer – January 25, 1882! We hope you will be inspired to new achievements with our constantly updated collection of quotes. At the moment, this page contains 78 sayings of Virginia Woolf about Writing. We will be happy if you share our collection of quotes with your friends on social networks!
  • Every secret of a writer's soul, every experience of his life, every quality of his mind is written large in his works.

    Virginia Woolf, Michael H. Whitworth (2014). “Orlando: A Biography”, p.122, Oxford University Press, USA
  • To know whom to write for is to know how to write.

    Virginia Woolf (2013). “The Common Reader”, p.167, Lulu Press, Inc
  • The art of writing has for backbone some fierce attachment to an idea.

    Virginia Woolf, David Bradshaw (2009). “Selected Essays”, p.21, Oxford University Press
  • So I have to create the whole thing afresh for myself each time. Probably all writers now are in the same boat. It is the penalty we pay for breaking with tradition, and the solitude makes the writing more exciting though the being read less so. One ought to sink to the bottom of the sea, probably, and live alone with ones words.

    Virginia Woolf (1981). “Mrs. Dalloway”, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt P
  • We are nauseated by the sight of trivial personalities decomposing in the eternity of print.

    The Common Reader (1925) "The Modern Essay"
  • For it would seem - her case proved it - that we write, not with the fingers, but with the whole person. The nerve which controls the pen winds itself about every fibre of our being, threads the heart, pierces the liver.

    Heart  
    Virginia Woolf (2015). “Orlando”, p.149, Booklassic
  • So long as you write what you wish to write, that is all that matters; and whether it matters for ages or only for hours, nobody can say.

    Virginia Woolf (2005). “Selected Works of Virginia Woolf”, p.628, Wordsworth Editions
  • I meant to write about death, only life came breaking in as usual

    Virginia Woolf (1978). “The Diary of Virginia Woolf, Vol.2, 1920-1924”, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt P
  • There was a day when I liked writing letters -- it has gone. Unfortunately the passion for getting them remains.

    Virginia Woolf (1975). “The letters of Virginia Woolf”
  • Here was a woman about the year 1800 writing without hate, without bitterness, without fear, without protest, without preaching. That was how Shakespeare wrote, I thought, looking at Antony and Cleopatra; and when people compare Shakespeare and Jane Austen, they may mean that the minds of both had consumed all impediments; and for that reason we do not know Jane Austen and we do not know Shakespeare, and for that reason Jane Austen pervades every word that she wrote, and so does Shakespeare.

    Virginia Woolf (2015). “A Room of One's Own and Three Guineas”, p.111, OUP Oxford
  • I'm fundamentally, I think, an outsider. I do my best work and feel most braced with my back to the wall. It's an odd feeling though, writing aginst the current: difficult entirely to disregard the current. Yet of course I shall.

    Virginia Woolf (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Virginia Woolf (Illustrated)”, p.4517, Delphi Classics
  • Yet, it is true, poetry is delicious; the best prose is that which is most full of poetry.

    Virginia Woolf (2013). “The Common Reader”, p.61, Lulu Press, Inc
  • I must try to set aside half an hour in some part of my day, and consecrate it to diary writing. Give it a name and a place, and then perhaps, such is the human mind, I shall come to think it a duty, and disregard other duties for it.

    "A Moment's Liberty". Book by Virginia Woolf, 1990.
  • To write weekly, to write daily, to write shortly, to write for busy people catching trains in the morning or for tired people coming home in the evening, is a heartbreaking task for men who know good writing from bad. They do it, but instinctively draw out of harm's way anything precious that might be damaged by contact with the public, or anything sharp that might irritate its skin.

    Virginia Woolf, David Bradshaw (2009). “Selected Essays”, p.20, Oxford University Press
  • What has praise and fame to do with poetry? Was not writing poetry a secret transaction, a voice answering a voice? So that all this chatter and praise, and blame and meeting people who admired one and meeting people who did not admire one was as ill suited as could be to the thing itself- a voice answering a voice.

    Virginia Woolf (2012). “Orlando: A Biography”, p.306, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
  • if newspapers were written by people whose sole object in writing was to tell the truth about politics and the truth about art we should not believe in war, and we should believe in art.

    Virginia Woolf (2007). “Selected Works of Virginia Woolf”, p.853, Wordsworth Editions
  • You have a touch in letter writing that is beyond me. Something unexpected, like coming round a corner in a rose garden and finding it still daylight.

  • Now the writer, I think, has the chance to live more than other people in the presence of ... reality. It is his business to find it and collect it and communicate it to the rest of us.

    Virginia Woolf (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Virginia Woolf (Illustrated)”, p.2687, Delphi Classics
  • Fiction is like a spider's web, attached ever so lightly perhaps, but still attached to life at all four corners. Often the attachment is scarcely perceptible; Shakespeare's plays, for instance, seem to hang there complete by themselves. But when the web is pulled askew, hooked up at the edge, torn in the middle, one remembers that these webs are not spun in midair by incorporeal creatures, but are the work of suffering human beings, and are attached to the grossly material things, like health and money and the houses we live in.

    "A Room of One's Own". Essay by Virginia Woolf (Chapter 3, pp. 43-44), October 24, 1929.
  • I think writing, my writing, is a species of mediumship. I become the person.

    Virginia Woolf (2003). “A Writer's Diary”, p.286, HMH
  • One ought to sink to the bottom of the sea, probably, and live alone with one's words.

    Virginia Woolf (1981). “Mrs. Dalloway”, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt P
  • The way to rock oneself back into writing is this. First gentle exercise in the air. Second the reading of good literature. It is a mistake to think that literature can be produced from the raw. One must get out of life...one must become externalised; very, very concentrated, all at one point, not having to draw upon the scattered parts of one's character, living in the brain.

  • Lock up your libraries if you like; but there is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind.

    Virginia Woolf (2005). “Selected Works of Virginia Woolf”, p.610, Wordsworth Editions
  • Writing is still like heaving bricks over a wall.

    Virginia Woolf (1976). “The question of things happening”, Vintage
  • I mean it's the writing, not the being read, that excites me.

    "A Writer's Diary".
  • If one could be friendly with women, what a pleasure - the relationship so secret and private compared with relations with men. Why not write about it truthfully?

    Virginia Woolf (2003). “A Writer's Diary”, p.79, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
  • I believe that the main thing in beginning a novel is to feel, not that you can write it, but that it exists on the far side of a gulf, which words can't cross: that it's to be pulled through only in a breathless anguish.

    Virginia Woolf, Joanne Trautmann Banks (1977). “A Change of Perspective”, Chatto & Windus
  • A good essay must have this permanent quality about it; it must draw its curtain round us, but it must be a curtain that shuts us in not out.

    1925 The Common Reader, 'The Modern Essay'.
  • Words, English words, are full of echoes, of memories, of associations. They have been out and about, on people's lips, in their houses, in the streets, in the fields, for so many centuries. And that is one of the chief difficulties in writing them today -- that they are stored with other meanings, with other memories, and they have contracted so many famous marriages in the past.

  • Was not writing poetry a secret transaction, a voice answering a voice?

    Virginia Woolf (2012). “Orlando: A Biography”, p.306, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
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