He began to search among the infinite series of impressions which time…

Virginia Woolf
593 citations
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 Woolf (2007). Selected Works of Virginia Woolf, p.365, Wordsworth Editions
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