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Poetry ennobles the heart and the eyes, and unveils the meaning of all things upon which the heart and the eyes dwell. It discovers the secret rays of the universe, and restores to us forgotten paradises.
Edith Sitwell
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Edith Sitwell
Age: 77 †
Born: 1887
Born: September 7
Died: 1964
Died: December 9
Biographer
Essayist
Literary Critic
Poet
Writer
Scarborough
North Yorkshire
Dame Edith Louisa Sitwell
Edith Louisa Sitwell
Dame Edith Sitwell
Miss Edith
Secret
Discovers
Upon
Dwell
Eye
Rays
Universe
Paradise
Heart
Forgotten
Unveils
Things
Meaning
Paradises
Poetry
Ennobles
Eyes
Restores
More quotes by Edith Sitwell
The aim of flattery is to soothe and encourage us by assuring us of the truth of an opinion we have already formed about ourselves.
Edith Sitwell
The light would show (if it could harden) Eternities of kitchen garden
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I'm afraid I'm being an awful nuisance.
Edith Sitwell
My poems are hymns of praise to the glory of life.
Edith Sitwell
Vulgarity is, in reality, nothing but a modern, chic, pert descendant of the goddess Dullness.
Edith Sitwell
Rhythm is one of the principal translators between dream and reality. Rhythm might be described as, to the world of sound, what light is to the world of sight. It shapes and gives new meaning. Rhythm was described by Schopenhauer as melody deprived of its pitch.
Edith Sitwell
I have often wished I had time to cultivate modesty... but I am too busy thinking about myself.
Edith Sitwell
White as a winding sheet, Masks blowing down the street: Moscow, Paris London, Vienna - all are undone. The drums of death are mumbling, rumbling, and tumbling, Mumbling, rumbling, and tumbling, The world's floors are quaking, crumbling and breaking.
Edith Sitwell
The trouble with most Englishwomen is that they will dress as if they had been a mouse in a previous incarnation... they do not want to attract attention.
Edith Sitwell
The poet is the complete lover of mankind.
Edith Sitwell
As for the usefulness of poetry, its uses are many. It is the deification of reality.
Edith Sitwell
Our hearts seemed safe in our breasts and sang to the Light The marrow in the bone We dreamed was safe. . . the blood in the veins, the sap in the tree Were springs of Deity.
Edith Sitwell
Why not be oneself? That is the whole secret of a successful appearance. If one is a greyhound, why try to look like a Pekingese?
Edith Sitwell
My temper is not spoilt. I am absolutely non-homicidal. Nor do I ever attack unless I have been attacked first, and then Heaven have mercy upon the attacker, because I don't! I just sharpen my wits on a wooden head as a cat sharpens its claws on the wood legs of a table.
Edith Sitwell
If one is a greyhound, why try to look like a Pekingese?
Edith Sitwell
Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home.
Edith Sitwell
Good taste is the worst vice ever invented.
Edith Sitwell
it is as unseeing to ask what is the use of poetry as it would be to ask what is the use of religion.
Edith Sitwell
I am an unpopular electric eel set in a pond of goldfish.
Edith Sitwell
Virginia Woolf's writing is no more than glamorous knitting. I believe she must have a pattern somewhere.
Edith Sitwell