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I feel certain that I am going mad again. I feel we can't go through another of those terrible times. And I shan't recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can't concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don't think two people could have been happier till this terrible disease came. I can't fight it any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. And you will I know. You see I can't even write this properly. I can't read. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. I want to say that—everybody knows it. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. Everything has gone from me but the certainty of your goodness. I can't go on spoiling your life any longer. I don't think two people could have been happier than we have been. V.{{sfn|Jones|2013}}{{sfn|Rose|1979|p=243}} }}
{{main|Hogarth Press}}
[[File:Shakespeare Plays hand bound by Virginia Woolf.JPG|thumb|Shelf of [[Shakespeare]] plays hand-bound by Virginia Woolf in her bedroom at [[Monk's House]]{{efn|It has been suggested that Woolf bound books to help cope with her depression, as is hinted at in her writing: "A great part of every day is not lived consciously. One walks, eats, sees things, deals with what has to be done; the broken vacuum cleaner; ... cooking dinner; bookbinding."{{sfn|Sim|2016}}{{page needed|date=July 2024}}}}]]
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