Born on January 25, 1882 at 22 Hyde Park Gate in Kensington, London, Adeline Virginia Stephen was raised in a remarkable household. Her father, Sir Leslie Stephen, was a historian and author, as well as one of the most prominent figures in the golden age of mountaineering. Woolf’s mother, Julia Prinsep Stephen (née Jackson), had been born in India and later served as a model for several Pre-Raphaelite painters. She was also a nurse and wrote a book on the profession. Both of her parents had been married and widowed before marrying each other. Woolf had three full siblings — Thoby, Vanessa and Adrian — and four half-siblings — Laura Makepeace Stephen and George, Gerald and Stella Duckworth. The eight children lived under one roof at 22 Hyde Park Gate, Kensington.

Two of Woolf’s brothers had been educated at Cambridge, but all the girls were taught at home and utilized the splendid confines of the family’s lush Victorian library. Moreover, Woolf’s parents were extremely well connected, both socially and artistically. Her father was a friend to William Thackeray, the father of his first wife who died unexpectedly, and George Henry Lewes, as well as many other noted thinkers. Her mother’s aunt was the famous 19th century photographer Julia Margaret Cameron.

From the time of her birth until the death of her mother in 1895, Woolf spent her summers in St. Ives, a beach town at the very southwestern tip of England. The Stephens’ summer home, Talland House, which is still standing today, looks out at the dramatic Porthminster Bay and has a view of the Godrevy Lighthouse, which inspired her writing. In her later memoirs, Woolf recalled St. Ives with a great fondness. In fact, she incorporated scenes from those early summers into her modernist novel, To the Lighthouse (1927), her most autobiographical novel.

In her novels, short stories, essays, polemical pamphlets and in her private letters she explored, questioned and refashioned everything about modern life: cinema, sexuality, shopping, education, feminism, politics and war. Her elegant and startlingly original sentences became a model of modernist prose. 

When you consider things like the stars, our affairs don't seem to matter very much, do they?
Virginia Woolf
Virginia Woolf from: Night & Day (1915)
As long as she thinks of a man, nobody objects to a woman thinking
Virginia Woolf
Virginia Woolf from: Orlando (1928)
The very stone one kicks with one's boot will outlast Shakespeare.
Virginia Woolf
Virginia Woolf from: To the Lighthouse (1927)
I am made and remade continually. Different people draw different words from me.
Virginia Woolf
Virginia Woolf from: The Waves (1931)
...she always had the feeling that it was very, very dangerous to live even one day.
Virginia Woolf
Virginia Woolf from: Mrs Dalloway (1925)
This is presumed to be the only surviving recording of Virginia Woolf. It was recorded on April 29, 1937, as part of a BBC radio broadcast series called “Words Fail Me.” Woolf would have been fifty-five at the time.