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.
Virginia WoolfRead
But he could not taste, he could not feel. In the teashop among the tables and the chattering waiters the appalling fear came over him- he could not feel. He could reason; he could read, Dante for example, quite easily…he could add up his bill; his brain was perfect; it must be the fault of the world then- that he could not feel.
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote reflects on the disconnect between intellect and emotions, suggesting a struggle to engage with one's feelings in a chaotic world.
In this quote by Virginia Woolf, the speaker experiences a profound sense of emotional numbness despite being mentally capable and aware of his surroundings. This highlights a deeper philosophical issue where intellect does not always equate to emotional connectivity, raising questions about the nature of existence and the impact of the external world on inner feelings. The quote captures the despair of being unable to connect with one's emotions amidst the noise of life, suggesting that the challenges of the world can inhibit personal feelings.
Themes
EmotionIntellectNumbnessExistenceVirginia Woolf
In practice
Example use cases
In a discussion about mental health, one could use this quote to emphasize the disconnect between cognitive abilities and emotional well-being.
More from Virginia Woolf
All quotes →Death is woven in with the violets,” said Louis. “Death and again death.”)
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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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