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I may say that I think greed about poetry is the only permissible greed - it is, indeed, unavoidable.

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
May
Think
Thinking
Permissible
Unavoidable
Greed
Indeed
Poetry

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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.
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Good taste is the worst vice ever invented.
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There is no truth. Only points of view.
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I'm not the man to baulk at a low smell, I'm not the man to insist on asphodel. This sounds like a He-fellow, don't you think? It sounds like that. I belch, I bawl, I drink.
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Vulgarity is, in reality, nothing but a modern, chic, pert descendant of the goddess Dullness.
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If certain critics and poetasters had their way, 'Ordinary Piety' and its child, Dullness, would be the masters of poetry.
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I'm afraid I'm being an awful nuisance.
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All great art contains an element of the irrational.
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A great many people now reading and writing would be better employed keeping rabbits.
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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.
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Virginia Woolf's writing is no more than glamorous knitting. I believe she must have a pattern somewhere.
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As for the usefulness of poetry, its uses are many. It is the deification of reality.
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My poems are hymns of praise to the glory of life.
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[History is] that terrible mill in which sawdust rejoins sawdust.
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If one is a greyhound, why try to look like a Pekingese?
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All great poetry is dipped in the dyes of the heart.
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What an artist is for is to tell us what we see but do not know that we see.
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The public will believe anything, so long as it is not founded on truth.
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I have often wished I had time to cultivate modesty... but I am too busy thinking about myself.
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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.
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