Virginia Woolf

One of the signs of passing youth is the birth of a sense of fellowship with other human beings as we take our place among them.

The poet gives us his essence, but prose takes the mold of the body and mind.

The eyes of others our prisons; their thoughts our cages.

A myth is a lie that conceals or reveals a truth. But if it reveals even a strand of history or truth, that's what gets my adrenaline going.

I don't like to get in front of people.