Picasso was a delightful, kindly, friendly, simple little man. When I met him he was extremely excited and overjoyed that his mother-in-law… — Edith Sitwell Copy Share Image
The living blind and seeing Dead together lie As if in love . . . There was no more hating then, And… — Edith Sitwell Copy Share Image
I'm not the man to baulk at a low smell, I'm not the man to insist on asphodel. This sounds like a… — Edith Sitwell Copy Share Image
"It is part of the poet's work to show each man what he sees but does not know he sees." — Edith Sitwell Copy Share Image
Still falls the rain - dark as the world of man, black as our loss - blind as the nineteen hundred and… — Edith Sitwell Copy Share Image
Eccentricity is not, as some would believe, a form of madness. It is often a kind of innocent pride, and the man… — Edith Sitwell Copy Share Image
The ghost of the heart of manred Cain And the more murderous brain Of Man, still redder Nero that conceived the death… — Edith Sitwell Copy Share Image
The poet speaks to all men of that other life of theirs that they have smothered and forgotten. — Edith Sitwell Copy Share Image
As for the usefulness of poetry, its uses are many. It is the deification of reality. It should make our days holy… — Edith Sitwell Copy Share Image
The reason why Matthew Arnold, to my feeling, fails entirely as a poet (though no doubt his ideas were good - at least, I… — Edith Sitwell Copy Share Image
The great sins and fires break out of me like the terrible leaves from the bough in the violent spring. I am a walking… — Edith Sitwell Copy Share Image
“Eccentricity is not, as dull people would have us believe, a form of madness. It is often a kind of innocent pride, and the… — Edith Sitwell Copy Share Image
I am not eccentric. It's just that I am more alive than most people. I am an unpopular electric eel set in a pond… — Edith Sitwell Copy Share Image
“Said the lion to the lioness - "when you are amber dust - No more a raging fire like the heat of the sun… — Edith Sitwell Copy Share Image
“The fusty showman fumbles, must Fit in a particle of dust The universe, for fear it gain Its freedom from my cube of brain.… — Edith Sitwell Copy Share Image
The trouble with most Englishwomen is that they will dress as if they had been a mouse in a previous incarnation they do not… — Edith Sitwell Copy Share Image
What is the special privilege of youth? It is, I think, the power of looking forward, the firm belief that the future holds something… — Edith Sitwell Copy Share Image
Rhythm is one of the principal translators between dream and reality. Rhythm might be described as, to the world of sound, what light is… — Edith Sitwell Copy Share Image
Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the… — Edith Sitwell Copy Share Image
