Virginia Woolf: The Waves

09 October 2019


I shall walk on the moor. The great horses of the phantom riders will thunder behind me and stop suddenly. I shall see the swallow skim the grass. I shall throw myself on a bank by the river and watch the fish slip in and out among the reeds. The palms of my hands will be printed with pine-needles. I shall there unfold and take out whatever it is I have made here; something hard. For something has grown in me here, through the winters and summers, on staircases, in bedrooms. I do not want [to] be admired. I do not want people, when I come in, to look up with admiration. I want to give, to be given, and solitude.

Post a comment

© Ecco Vediamo. Design by FCD.