Happiness is in the quiet, ordinary things.

"Happiness is in the quiet, ordinary things. A table, a chair, a book with a paper-knife stuck between the pages. And the petal falling from the rose, and the light flickering as we sit silent.”

– Virgina Woolf, The Waves

I’m currently re-reading The Waves after I bought a lovely 1952 hardback edition. It’s probably her most experimental work, being a stream of consciousness, mainly about observations of the small things in life. 

I realised however that reading this hardback copy, faded and slightly battered, was a completely different experience from when I first read it as a shiny new paperback. Somehow it resonates with me even more.

Right now, its writing like this that is so needed, for me at least.