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The living blind and seeing Dead together lieAs if in love . . . There was no more hating then,And no more love; Gone is the heart of Man.
Edith Sitwell -
I wouldn't dream of following a fashion... how could one be a different person every three months?
Edith Sitwell
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My poems are hymns of praise to the glory of life.
Edith Sitwell -
Within your magic web of hair, lies furledThe fire and splendour of the ancient world;The dire gold of the comet's wind-blown hair;The songs that turned to gold the evening airWhen all the stars of heaven sang for joy.
Edith Sitwell -
The flames of the heart consumed me, and the mindIs but a foolish wind.
Edith Sitwell -
Good taste is the worst vice ever invented.
Edith Sitwell -
I have taken this step because I want the discipline, the fire and the authority of the Church. I am hopelessly unworthy of it, but I hope to become worthy.
Edith Sitwell -
It is a part of the poet's work to show each man what he sees but does not know he sees.
Edith Sitwell
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Mother or Murderer, you havegiven or taken life - Now all is one!
Edith Sitwell -
Oh how the VacancyLaughed at them rushing by.'Turn again, flesh and brain,Only yourselves again!How far above the apeDiffering in each shape,You with your regularMeaningless circles are!'
Edith Sitwell -
The great gold planet that is the mourning heat of the SunIs greater than all gold, more powerfulThan the tawny body of a Lion that fire consumesLike all that grows or leaps... so is the heartMore powerful than all dust.
Edith Sitwell -
Still falls the Rain - Still falls the Blood from the Starved Man's wounded Side:He bears in His Heart all wounds, - those of the light that died,The last faint sparkIn the self-murdered heart, the wounds of the sad uncomprehending dark...
Edith Sitwell -
People are usually made Dames for virtues I do not possess.
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