Literature is strewn with the wreckage of those who have minded beyond reason the opinion of others.
Source: A Room of One's Own, Virginia Woolf, 1929
Genuine Woolf, from A Room of One's Own (1929), in the passage on how writers are deformed by their sensitivity to criticism and reputation. The wording quoted here matches the published text.
Odd how the creative power at once brings the whole universe to order.
Source: The Diary of Virginia Woolf (also in A Writer's Diary, ed. Leonard Woolf, 1953) — mid-1920s entry
This has the compressed, self-observing cadence of the diary rather than the published essays, and my recollection places it in a mid-1920s diary entry, later reprinted in A Writer's Diary. I am confident about author and genre; I have not pinned the exact date, so I stop short of 'verified'.