I am obsessed at nights with the idea of my own worthlessness, and if it were only to turn a light on to save my life I think I would not do it. These are the last footprints of a headache I suppose. Do you ever feel that? — like an old weed in a stream. What do you feel, lying in bed?
Virginia Woolf, Letter to Vita Sackville-West, 18th August 1929
(From The Letters of Virginia Woolf, Volume 4)
















