"There is something I want - something I have come to get, and she fell deeper and deeper without knowing quite what it was, with her eyes closed. And she waited a little, ... wondering, and slowly rose those words they had said at dinner... began washing from side to side of her mind rhythmically, and as they washed, words, like little shaded lights, one red, one blue, one yellow, lit up in the dark of her mind, and seemed leaving their perches up there to fly across and across, or to cry out and to be echoed. () she felt that she was climbing backwards, upwards, shoving her way up under petals that curved over her, so that she only knew this is white, or this is red..." - a short excerpt from "To The Lighthouse" by Virginia Woolf
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