Author: Edith Sitwell

Mr. Lawrence looked like a plaster gnome on a stone toadstool in some suburban garden… he looked as if he had just returned from spending an uncomfortable night in a very dark cave.

(1887 – 1964) English biographer, critic, novelist & poet

I’m afraid I’m being an awful nuisance.

(1887 – 1964) English biographer, critic, novelist & poet

Mr Lewis’ pictures appeared to have been painted by a mailed fist in a cotton glove.

(1887 – 1964) English biographer, critic, novelist & poet

I am patient with stupidity but not with those who are proud of it.

(1887 – 1964) English biographer, critic, novelist & poet

Good taste is the worst vice ever invented.

(1887 – 1964) English biographer, critic, novelist & poet

I have often wished I had time to cultivate modesty… but I am too busy thinking about myself.

(1887 – 1964) English biographer, critic, novelist & poet

A great many people now reading and writing would be better employed keeping rabbits.

(1887 – 1964) English biographer, critic, novelist & poet

Virginia Woolf’s writing is no more than glamorous knitting; I believe she must have a pattern somewhere.

(1887 – 1964) English biographer, critic, novelist & poet