The Waves

"...one sees a fin passing far out..."

"...a fin rising on a wide blank sea..."      "One goes down into the well and nothing protects one from the assault of truth...It is not oneself but something in the universe that one's left with..."

Copper and brass, book


Sunday 4 September 1927

Many scenes have come and gone unwritten, since it is today 4th September, a cold grey blowy day, made memorable by the sight of a kingfisher, and by my sense, waking early, of being again visited by 'the spirit of delight'. 'Rarely rarely comest thou, spirit of delight'. That was I singing this time last year; and sang so poignantly that I have never forgotten it, or my vision of a fin rising on a wide blank sea. No biographer could possibly guess this important fact about my life in the late summer of 1926.

Saturday 7 February 1931

How physical the sense of triumph and relief is! Whether good or bad, its done; I mean that I have netted that fin in the waste of waters which appeared to me over the marshes out of my window at Rodmell when I was coming to an end of To the Lighthouse.

Virginia Woolf, in her diary


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