Edith SitwellThinkers

Art is life accelerated and concentrated.

D.H. Lawrence is a man who looks like a plaster gnome on a stone toadstool in some suburban garden.

Good taste is the worst vice ever invented.

History is that terrible mill in which sawdust rejoins sawdust.

Poetry is the deification of reality.

Rhythm is to the world of sound what light is to the world of sight.

Virginia Woolf is a writer whose writing is no more than glamorous knitting, suggesting that she must have a pattern. She is no more than a "beautiful little knitter.".

Virginia Woolf is a writer whose work is no more than glamorous knitting; in fact, she likely even has a pattern book.

Vulgarity is nothing but a modem, chi c, pert descendant of the goddess Dullness.

Winter is the time for comfort; it is the time for home.

Winter is the time for home: For comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire.