October 29, 2012. 1:15-4:15 p.m.


“Starting from her musing, she gave meaning to words which she had held meaningless in her mind for a long stretch of time.”


“If Shakespeare had never existed, he asked, would the world have differed much from what it is today? Does the progress of civilisation depend upon great men? Is the lot of the average human being better now than in the time of the Pharaohs? Is the lot of the average human being, he asked himself, the criterion by which we judge the measure of civilisation? Possibly not….The liftman in the Tube is an eternal necessity.”


“It was his fate, his peculiarity, whether he wished it or not, to come out thus on a spit of land which the sea was slowly eating away, and there to stand, like a desolate sea-bird, alone. It was his power, his gift, suddenly to shed all superfluities, to shrink and diminish so that he looked barer and felt sparer, even physically, yet lost none of his intensity of mind, and so to stand on his little ledge facing the dark of human ignorance, how we know nothing and the sea eats away the ground we stand on–that was his fate, his gift.”


“She could have wept. It was bad, it was bad, it was definitely bad! She could have done  it differently of course; the colour could have been thinned and faded; the shapes etherealized; that was how Paunceforte would have seen it. But then she did not see it like that. She saw the color burning on a framework of steel; the light of a butterfyl’s wing lying upon the arches of the cathedral.”


Text from To The Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf