"You are very clever," said the old man shyly. "I would like to eat your brains, one day."

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She came into a room; she stood, as he had often seen her, in a doorway with lots of people round her. But it was Clarissa one remembered. Not that she was striking; not beautiful at all; there was nothing picturesque about her; she never said anything specially clever; there she was however; there she was.

— Virginia Woolf