I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realises an emotion at the time. It expands later, and thus we don't have complete emotions about the present, only about the past.
Virginia WoolfRead
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. But to sacrifice a hair of the head of your vision, a shade of its colour, in deference to some Headmaster with a silver pot in his hand or to some professor with a measuring-rod up his sleeve, is the most abject treachery, and the sacrifice of wealth and chastity which used to be said to be the greatest of human disasters, a mere flea-bite in comparison.
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote emphasizes the importance of staying true to one’s creative vision without succumbing to external pressures or expectations.
Virginia Woolf expresses the idea that the integrity of one's creative expression is paramount. She argues that when a writer compromises their vision to appease authority figures or societal norms, they engage in a form of betrayal that is far worse than any tangible loss. The quote suggests that the value of art lies in authenticity rather than acceptance, urging individuals to prioritize their unique voices in the pursuit of creativity.
Themes
CreativityAuthenticityExpressionVisionIndividuality
In practice
Example use cases
This quote is perfect for artists at an exhibition, reminding them to stay true to their vision.
More from Virginia Woolf
All quotes →Death is woven in with the violets,” said Louis. “Death and again death.”)
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He began to search among the infinite series of impressions which time had laid down, leaf upon leaf, fold upon fold softly, incessantly upon his brain; among scents, sounds; voices, harsh, hollow, sweet; and lights passing, and brooms tapping; and the wash and hush of the sea.
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I want to think quietly, calmly, spaciously, never to be interrupted, never to have to rise from my chair, to slip easily from one thing to another, without any sense of hostility, or obstacle. I want to sink deeper and deeper, away from the surface, with its hard separate facts.
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I do think all good and evil comes from words. I have to tune myself into a good temper with something musical, and I run to a book as a child to its mother.
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London perpetually attracts, stimulates, gives me a play and a story and a poem, without any trouble, save that of moving my legs through the streets... To walk alone through London is the greatest rest.
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