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Wine has a drastic, an astringent taste. I cannot help wincing as I drink. Ascent of flowers, radiance and heat, are distilled here to a fiery, yellow liquid. Just behind my shoulder-blades some dry thing, wide-eyed, gently closes, gradually lulls itself to sleep. This is rapture. This is relief.
Virginia Woolf
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Interpretation

What this quote means

The quote describes the complex experience of drinking wine, highlighting its contrasting sensations and the feelings it evokes.

In this quote, Virginia Woolf encapsulates the multifaceted experience of consuming wine, contrasting its harsh, astringent taste with the pleasant, rapturous feelings it instills. The imagery of flowers and warmth suggests a rich sensory experience that transcends the initial discomfort, leading to a profound sense of relief and pleasure, reflecting life’s dichotomies between discomfort and enjoyment.

Themes

WineTasteExperiencePleasureRelief

In practice

Example use cases

During wine tasting events, this quote could be shared to articulate the nuanced experience of enjoying wine.

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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.
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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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Quote by Virginia Woolf | QuoteProject