The moment was all; the moment was enough. - Virginia Woolf

Margaret Ll. Davies writes that Janet is dying and will I write on her for The Times – a curious thought, rather: as if it mattered who wrote, or not. But this flooded me with the idea of Janet yesterday. I think writing, my writing, is a species of mediumship. I become the person.

Orlando naturally loved solitary places, vast views, and to feel himself for ever and ever and ever alone.

For I am more selves than Neville thinks. We are not simple as our friends would have us to meet their needs. Yet love is simple.