“One cannot bring children into a world like this. One cannot perpetuate suffering, or increase the breed of these lustful animals, who have no lasting emotions, but only whims and vanities, eddying them now this way, now that.”
One innocent summer day, Mrs. Dalloway buys flowers for her party, and along the way she encounters many faces in London streets whose thoughts speak loudly, lifting the mist of post-war disillusionment.
“A hallmark of the Modernist movement, and a splendid, wrenching, subtle psychological novel, beloved in its day and beloved now.” — Lithub