Миссис Дэллоуэй

           Emigrationwasnottootherstheobviousremedy,thesublimeconception.Itwasnottothem(nottoHugh,orRichard,oreventodevotedMissBrush)theliberatorofthepentegotism,whichastrongmartialwoman,wellnourished,welldescended,ofdirectimpulses,downrightfeelings,andlittleintrospectivepower(broadandsimple—whycouldnoteveryonebebroadandsimple?sheasked)feelsrisewithinher,onceyouthispast,andmustejectuponsomeobject—itmaybeEmigration,itmaybeEmancipation;butwhateveritbe,thisobjectroundwhichtheessenceofhersoulisdailysecreted,becomesinevitablyprismatic,lustrous,halflooking-glass,halfpreciousstone;nowcarefullyhiddenincasepeopleshouldsneeratit;nowproudlydisplayed.Emigrationhadbecome,inshort,largelyLadyBruton.

           Butshehadtowrite.AndonelettertotheTimes,sheusedtosaytoMissBrush,costhermorethantoorganiseanexpeditiontoSouthAfrica(whichshehaddoneinthewar).Afteramorning’sbattlebeginning,tearingup,beginningagain,sheusedtofeelthefutilityofherownwomanhoodasshefeltitonnootheroccasion,andwouldturngratefullytothethoughtofHughWhitbreadwhopossessed—noonecoulddoubtit—theartofwritingletterstotheTimes.

           Abeingsodifferentlyconstitutedfromherself,withsuchacommandoflanguage;abletoputthingsaseditorslikethemput;hadpassionswhichonecouldnotcallsimplygreed.