"So she stood thinking. Without making any thought precise — for she was one of those reticent people whose minds hold their thoughts enmeshed in clouds of silence — she was filled with thoughts. Her mind was like her room, in which lights advanced and retreated, came pirouetting and stepping delicately, spread their tails, pecked their way; and then her whole being was suffused, like the room again, with a cloud of some profound knowledge, some unspoken regret"

Virginia Woolf, The Lady In The Looking Glass. (via fuckyeahvirginiawoolf)

Notes 134

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