Alive. Alive in the way that death is alive.

Evolution did not intend trees to grow singly. Far more than ourselves they are social creatures, and no more natural as isolated specimens than man is as a marooned sailor or hermit.

I mean I never feel I feel what I ought to feel.

Between skin and skin, there is only light.

Edith Sitwell's interest in art was largely confined to portraits of herself.

That's the trouble with provincial life. Everyone knows everyone and there is no mystery. No romance.

Men love war because it allows them to look serious. Because it is the one thing that stops women laughing at them.