Virginia Woolf (from A Room of One’s Own ):
“All women together, ought to let flowers fall upon the grave of Aphra Behn . . . for it was she who earned them the right to speak their minds.”
And Reason over all Unfettered plays,
Wanton and undisturbed as Summer’s Breeze;
That gliding murmurs o’er the Trees:
And no hard Notion meets or stops its way.
It Pierces, Conquers and Compels,
Beyond poor Feeble Faith’s dull oracles.
Faith the despairing Soul’s content,
Faith the Last Shift of Routed Argument.
And here’s a drawing of Aphra Behn at age 33 (made by one of her 17th century contemporaries):
Aphra Behn died in 1689 and is buried at Westminster Abbey.