Virginia Woolf

“With her foot on the threshold she waited a moment longer in a scene which was vanishing even as she looked, and then, as she moved and took Minta's arm and left the room, it changed, it shaped itself differently; it had become, she knew, giving one last look at it over her shoulder, already the past.”


Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse
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To the Lighthouse To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf
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