Top 18 Quotes & Sayings by Osbert Sitwell

Explore popular quotes and sayings by an English writer Osbert Sitwell.
Last updated on November 13, 2024.
Osbert Sitwell

Sir Francis Osbert Sacheverell Sitwell, 5th Baronet CH was an English writer. His elder sister was Edith Sitwell and his younger brother was Sacheverell Sitwell. Like them, he devoted his life to art and literature.

Hell has a climate, but no situation. It lies in the spirit, and not in space.
The terrible newly imported American doctrine that everyone ought to do something.
It is fatal to be appreciated in one's own time. — © Osbert Sitwell
It is fatal to be appreciated in one's own time.
I have always said that if I were a rich man, I would employ a professional praiser.
For forty days he went out into the desert - and never shot anything [on Jesus]
The only difference between an artist and a lunatic is, perhaps, that the artist has the restraint or courtesy to conceal the intensity of his obsession from all except those similarly afflicted.
A golf course outside a big town serves an excellent purpose in that it segregates, as though a concentration camp, all the idle and idiot well-to-do.
Poetry is like fish: if it's fresh, it's good; if it's stale, it's bad; and if you're not certain, try it on the cat.
Heroic figures are now obsolete,So Demigod and Devil find retreatIn minds of children - as rare beasts and men,Elsewhere extinct, persist in hill or fenFrom man protected - where each form assumesGigantic stature and intention, loomsFrom wind-moved, twilight-woven histories:For them each flower teems with mysteries.
Blood is that fragile scarlet tree we carry within us.
The artist, like the idiot or clown, sits on the edge of the world, and a push may send him over it.
My education [takes place] during the holidays from Eton.
We attended stables, as we attended church, in our best clothes, thereby no doubt showing the degree of respect due to horses.
In reality, killing time is only the name for another of the multifarious ways by which Time kills us.
The Rich Man's Banquet, which was to last for a decade, had now begun: the feast, it was recognised, went to the greediest.
Everywhere men have unlocked the prisoners within, and from under the disguising skins the apes have leapt joyfully out.
How simple-minded of the Germans to imagine that we British could be cowed by the destruction of our ancient monuments! As though any havoc of the German bombs could possibly equal the things we have done ourselves!
For Poetry is the wisdom of the blood,That scarlet tree within, which has the powerTo make dull words bud forth and burst in flower. — © Osbert Sitwell
For Poetry is the wisdom of the blood,That scarlet tree within, which has the powerTo make dull words bud forth and burst in flower.
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