- Ay, vida, cómo te he temido - dijo Rhoda-. Ay, seres humanos, ¡cómo os he odiado!, ¡cómo me habéis importunado, me habéis interrumpido, qué repulsivos me habéis parecido en Oxford Street, qué sucios érais cuando os sentabais uno frente a otro con la mirada fija! Me habéis manchado, y me habéis…
Virginia’s desk - Monk’s house.
In this writer’s lodge, Woolf wrote parts of all her major novels from Mrs Dalloway to Between the Acts, many essays and reviews, and many letters. This was where Leonard came out in July 1931 to tell her that The Waves, which he had just finished reading, was a masterpiece. This was where she struggled for months on end with The Years, trying to cut down on her smoking (from six or seven to one a morning in 1934). This was where, on Friday March 28, 1941, on a cold spring morning, she wrote a farewell letter to Leonard before walking down to the River Ouse, leaving her papers in disarray, with several revisions of her last essay on Mrs Thrale in the waste-paper basket and immense numbers of typewritten sheets lying about the room.
It was fascinating to watch her, moving about, that old lady, crossing the room, coming to the window. Could she see her? It was fascinating, with people still laughing and shouting in the drawing-room, to watch that old woman, quite quietly, going to bed along. She pulled the blind now. The…
