To The Lighthouse - Ingilizce Klasik Roman Virginia Woolf

For now she need not think about anybody. She could be herself, by herself. And that was
what now she often felt the need of—to think; well, not even to think. To be silent; to be alone. All
the being and the doing, expansive, glittering, vocal, evaporated; and one shrunk, with a sense
of solemnity, to being oneself, a wedge-shaped core of darkness, something invisible to others.
Although she continued to knit, and sat upright, it was thus that she felt herself; and this self
having shed its attachments was free for the strangest adventures.