Edith Sitwell quotes - page 3

One's own surroundings means so much to one, when one is feeling miserable. (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

Small things I handled and caressed and loved. I let the stars assume the whole of night.But the big answers clamoured to be moved Into my life. Their great audacity Shouted to be acknowledged and believed.

Edith Sitwell

The poet is a brother speaking to a brother of "a moment of their other lives"

Edith Sitwell

Then sounds the voice of One who like the heart of man Was once a child who among beasts has lain - "Still do I love, still shed my innocent light, my Blood, for thee."

Edith Sitwell

Let us speak of our madness. We are always being called mad.

Edith Sitwell

The cap and bells of Time the Clown That, jangling, whistled down Young cherubs hidden in the guise Of every bird that flies.

Edith Sitwell

And star-bright masks for youth to wear, Lest any dream that fare - Bright pilgrim - past our ken, should see Hints of Reality.

Edith Sitwell

Our hearts seemed safe in our breasts and sang to the Light -.

Edith Sitwell

Within your magic web of hair, lies furled The fire and splendour of the ancient world.

Edith Sitwell

The rooms are vast as Sleep within;
When once I ventured in,
Chill Silence, like a surging sea,
Slowly enveloped me. (Edith Sitwell)

The world's floors are quaking, crumbling and breaking.

Edith Sitwell

The busy chatter of the heat Shrilled like a parakeet; And shuddering at the noonday light The dust lay dead and whiteAs powder on a mummy's face, Or fawned with simian grace Round booths with many a hard bright toy And wooden brittle joy:The cap and bells of Time the Clown That, jangling, whistled down Young cherubs hidden in the guise Of every bird that flies;And star-bright masks for youth to wear, Lest any dream that fare - Bright pilgrim - past our ken, should see Hints 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

Let us speak of our madness. We are always being called mad. If we are mad - we and our brothers in America who are walking hand in hand with us in the vanguard of progress - at least we are mad in company with most of our great predecessors and all the most intelligent foreigners. Beethoven, Schumann, and Wagner, Shelley, Blake, Keats, Coleridge, Wordsworth were all mad in turn. We shall be proud to join them in the Asylum to which they are now consigned.

Edith Sitwell

There are people, also, who cannot believe that beauty and gaiety are a part of goodness. When we think of cruelty, we must try to remember the stupidity, the envy, the frustration from which it has arisen.

Edith Sitwell

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Edith Sitwell

Edith Sitwell - Image

Occupation: British Poet
Born: September 7, 1887
Died: December 9, 1964
Quotes count: 66
Wikipedia: Edith Sitwell

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