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Only two things are real to me: my love and my death. In between them, I merely exist as a scatter of senses.
Sylvia Townsend Warner
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Sylvia Townsend Warner
Age: 84 †
Born: 1893
Born: December 6
Died: 1978
Died: May 1
Linguist
Musicologist
Novelist
Poet
Translator
Writer
Harrow
Silvia Warner
Exist
Death
Two
Real
Things
Love
Scatter
Senses
Merely
More quotes by Sylvia Townsend Warner
The fatal flaw of gravity when you are down, everything falls down on you.
Sylvia Townsend Warner
... possessiveness cannot accept it cannot even strike a fair bargain it has to confer.
Sylvia Townsend Warner
There is a moral, of course, and like all morals it is better not pursued.
Sylvia Townsend Warner
no one wants to be praised for possibilities when one has submitted performances.
Sylvia Townsend Warner
One need not write in a diary what one is to remember for ever.
Sylvia Townsend Warner
You are only young once. At the time it seems endless, and is gone in a flash and then for a very long time you are old.
Sylvia Townsend Warner
My grandmother was unsurpassable at sitting. She would sit on tombstones, glaciers, small hard benches with ants crawling over them, fragments of public monuments, other people's wheelbarrows, and when one returned one could be sure of finding her there, conversing affably with the owner of the wheelbarrow.
Sylvia Townsend Warner
I seem to use this word 'kind' very frequently. When one is unhappy or anxious it is a quality one dwells on.
Sylvia Townsend Warner
The Church has lost a great religious poet in me but I have lost an infinity of fun in the church, so the loss is even.
Sylvia Townsend Warner
One reason why my memory decays is that I have three cats, all so loving and insistent that they play cat's-cradle with every train of thought. They drove me distracted while I was having influenza, gazing at me with large eyes and saying: O Sylvia, you are so ill, you'll soon be dead. And who will feed us then? Feed us now!
Sylvia Townsend Warner
Of all damnable offenses preaching prudence to the young is the most damnable.
Sylvia Townsend Warner
Sneezes ... always sound much louder to the sneezer than to the hearers. It is an acoustical peculiarity.
Sylvia Townsend Warner
Love amazes, but it does not surprise.
Sylvia Townsend Warner
There are not enough poems in praise of bed.
Sylvia Townsend Warner
General de Gaulle is again pictured in our newspapers, looking as usual like an embattled codfish.
Sylvia Townsend Warner
She was heavier than he expected - women always are.
Sylvia Townsend Warner
Love is the only real patriation, and without one's dear one sits in a dreary and boring exile.
Sylvia Townsend Warner
There are some women ... in whom conscience is so strongly developed that it leaves little room for anything else.
Sylvia Townsend Warner
Young people are careless of their virginity one day they may have it and the next not.
Sylvia Townsend Warner
Here is a kitchen improvement, in return for Peacock. For roasting or basting a chicken, render down your fat or butter with cider: about a third cider. Let it come together slowly, till the smell of cider and the smell of fat are as one. This will enliven even a frozen chicken.
Sylvia Townsend Warner
