Throw over your man, and we’ll go to Hampton Court and dine on the river together and walk in the garden in the moonlight and come home late and have a bottle of wine and get tipsy, and I’ll tell you all the things I have in my head, millions, myriads — They won’t stir by day, only by dark on the river. Think of that. Throw over your man, I say, and come.
- Virginia Woolf to Vita Sackville-West

Just a few things remain as beacons: poetry, and you, and solitude.
- Vita Sackville-West to Virginia Woolf