Snapshots of my Dalloway-ism

Tonight I put some order in my stuff and found an old notebook from my university years. There are two fragments below from Woolf's 'Mrs Dalloway', which I remember having read many times over, because I found it so enthralling.

"What is this terror? What is this ecstasy? he thought to himself. What is it that fills me with extraordinary excitement? It is Clarissa, he said. For there she was."

"He had not said 'I love you'; but he held her hand, Happiness is this, is this, he thought."

I feel like I have lived them out myself :)