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The last faint spark In the self-murdered heart, the wounds of the sad uncomprehending dark, The wounds of the baited bear,-- The blind and weeping bear whom the keepers beat On his helpless flesh . . . the tears of the hunted hare.
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
Lasts
Bear
Faint
Last
Misery
Weeping
Self
Beats
Spark
Baited
Heart
Blind
Sparks
Hare
Bears
Helpless
Hares
Tears
Wounds
Hunted
Darkness
Beat
Murdered
Dark
Flesh
Keepers
More quotes by Edith Sitwell
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.
Edith Sitwell
I'm dying, but otherwise I'm in very good health.
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
My personal hobbies are reading, listening to music, and silence.
Edith Sitwell
What is the special privilege of youth? It is, I think, the power of looking forward, the firm belief that the future holds something that is worth possessing, and that, therefore, one can let the present moment drop from one without regret and without fear.
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
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 am patient with stupidity but not with those who are proud of it.
Edith Sitwell
If certain critics and poetasters had their way, 'Ordinary Piety' and its child, Dullness, would be the masters of poetry.
Edith Sitwell
I have often wished I had time to cultivate modesty... but I am too busy thinking about myself.
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
My poems are hymns of praise to the glory of life.
Edith Sitwell
The light would show (if it could harden) Eternities of kitchen garden
Edith Sitwell
Good taste is the worst vice ever invented.
Edith Sitwell
The poet is the complete lover of mankind.
Edith Sitwell
If one is a greyhound, why try to look like a Pekingese?
Edith Sitwell
What an artist is for is to tell us what we see but do not know that we see.
Edith Sitwell
Virginia Woolf, I enjoyed talking to her, but thought nothing of her writing. I considered her 'a beautiful little knitter.
Edith Sitwell
The poet is a brother speaking to a brother of a moment of their other lives - a moment that had been buried beneath the dust of the busy world.
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