on knowing the limits of academic devotion
I am one person-- myself. I do not impersonate Catullus, whom I adore. I am the most slavish of students, with here a dictionary; there is a notebook in which I enter curious uses of the past participle. But one cannot go on for ever cutting these ancient inscriptions clearer with a knife.
Virginia Woolf, The Waves, pg. 87
Virginia Woolf, The Waves, pg. 87
Labels: fiction, the individual
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