Virginia Woolf is a writer who attains a different kind of beauty, achieves a symmetry by means of infinite discords, showing all the traces of the mind's passage through the world, achieving in the end some kind of whole made of shivering fragments.
Virginia Woolf is a writer whose writing is no more than glamorous knitting, suggesting that she must have a pattern. She is no more than a "beautiful little knitter.".
Virginia Woolf is a writer whose prose is poetry, and must be judged as poetry, and all the weaknesses of poetry are inherent in it.
Virginia Woolf is a writer whose work is no more than glamorous knitting; in fact, she likely even has a pattern book.