Connections

I reach what I might call a philosophy; at any rate it is a constant idea of mine; that behind the cotton wool is hidden a pattern; that we — I mean all human beings — are connected with this; that the whole world is a work of art; that we are parts of the work of art… Certainly and emphatically there is no God; we are the words; we are the music; we are the thing itself. And I see this when I have a shock… There is a pattern hid behind the cotton wool.

Virginia Woolf, Moments of Being