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
Truth had run through my fingers. Every drop had escaped.
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote reflects on the elusiveness of truth and how it often slips away from our grasp.
Virginia Woolf's quote illustrates the frustration and sorrow that can accompany the pursuit of truth. It conveys the idea that truth is not a solid or easily retained concept; instead, it is often fleeting, much like sand slipping through one's fingers. This metaphor suggests that despite our efforts to hold onto or understand the truth, it can be elusive and escape us, leaving us with a sense of loss or frustration.
Themes
TruthElusivenessFrustrationLossPhilosophy
In practice
Example use cases
This quote can be used in a speech about the challenges of seeking truth in today's world.
More from Virginia Woolf
All quotes βDeath is woven in with the violets,β said Louis. βDeath and again death.β)
Virginia WoolfRead
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.
Virginia WoolfRead
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.
Virginia WoolfRead
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.
Virginia WoolfRead
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.
Virginia WoolfRead
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