Now this room seems to me central, something scooped out of the eternal night. Outside lines twist and intersect, but round us, wrapping us about. Here we are centred. Here we can be silent, or speak without raising our voices.

Where do I even start with this book... I annotated almost every singly page and fell in love with Virginia Woolf's writing. Even deciding on a quote for this review was so hard because there are so so many good ones. I felt like Woolf opened up every single part of my soul and put it down on paper. The way different parts of ourselves melt together or oppose each other, she wrote it so well. 
Reading this made me understand why her mind led her to suicide, while at the same time being confused about how she could have committed suicide if this was the way her mind worked. I felt so included and loved reading this, I cried and I felt hugged, held, understood, loved. 
I will probably reread this book a million times because I think it will be important to me in all chapters of my life. I felt like I was reading my soul, and the lines between reality and pages blurred. 
I think if I were to write a novel, I would probably have similar writing to hers - not claiming to be as talented as she is - but I write similarly, and it made me feel at home.