“But delightful though it is to indulge in righteous indignation, it is misplaced if we agree with the lady's-maid that high birth is a form of congenital insanity, that the sufferer merely inherits the diseases of his ancestors, and endures them, for the most part very stoically, in one of those comfortably padded lunatic asylums which are known, euphemistically, as the stately homes of England.”
More from Virginia Woolf
“I must open the little trap-door and let out these linked phrases in which I run together…”
“I have a deeply hidden and inarticulate desire for something beyond the daily life.”
“They sang as if the edge of being were sharpened and must cut, must split the softness of…”
“I am like the foam that races over the beach or the moonlight that falls arrow-like here…”